


Saltwater Constellations

by dawons



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, AnD tHeY fOuNd EaCh OtHeR, Angst, Chaptered, Character Death, Everyone else shows up at the end, Fluff and Angst, Juho is a star, Juho's cute :(, Juho's kind of lonely, Literally so much angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Youngbin is an author, Youngbin's also lonely, Youngbin's cute :(, Zubin - Freeform, got sad writing this, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawons/pseuds/dawons
Summary: The comet wasn't a comet - it was a man. Curled up, in an attempt to hide with what could very well be fourth degree burns lacing his body, he looks small and absolutely terrified. He raises a hand weakly at Youngbin, tears streaming down his cheeks. His fingers tremble with every ragged breath he takes. "Don't," he whispers, trying to curl further onto his side to get farther from Youngbin, "don't hurt me."





	1. Chapter 1

**JUNE 12TH, 2018-**  
_ a boy fell from the sky today. _

 

 

⋆

 

 

" _There's a low chance for rain in the morning._ _And, tonight, a meteor shower. To see it in its full, look for Polaris at dusk. More on this at_ -"

  
Youngbin turns off the radio, leaning back against his pillows. The wide windows next to his bed cast an orange glow into the room, shining down on him. He rolls over to look outside, glaring at the bright sky.  
"A meteor shower," he laughs, closing his eyes. "Such an important event..."

  
Falling in and out of sleep is how Youngbin usually spends his days. Finally out of college, having just graduated months before, there's not much else for him to do. The days are far too long and hot for his liking, anyway. He'd always been more productive during the night.

  
He lived alone, And though the house had always seemed too large and empty for him to live in solitude, he couldn't bring himself to move. The beach, only two blocks down, persuaded him to stay, and the forest that surrounded his private home held him tight, begging for him to keep himself in the area for just a while longer. He was waiting for the day it finally felt right to call the little beach town his own, to finally feel like one of the townspeople who knew him by name, who waved to him on the street.

  
Opening his eyes every so often, the sky gets darker and darker. Soon, the stars begin to blink to life and Youngbin finds himself waking up finally. Sitting up, he rubs his eyes, yawning. It's gotten colder, so he reaches blindly in the dark for a blanket. When his fingers curl around it he sighs, pulling it to his chest. The scent of laundry detergent floats up to him and he sighs wistfully before draping the cloth over his shoulders, burying himself in it.

  
Sparing a look to the sky above, he pouts. He wanted to see the meteor shower, but the beach would be closed and he didn't feel like jumping the fence tonight. He climbs out of bed, stepping on a mess of papers. He grumbles about the clutter, looking around the room. It _was_ a mess...

  
"I'll clean it later," he assures himself, but knows he won't. Books line his desk and floor, almost all of them opened with pens or pencils laying on their upraised pages. He steps over a fiction novel on his way to the door, making sure not to kick it or harm it in any way. He prided himself on his knowledge, mainly on his study of astrophysics and cosmology, but neither were the course he majored in. He was a literature freak, and had wanted to be a writer ever since he was a child. His fascination with the written word exceeded that of the universe, and so his interest was simply that. An interest he had no intention to further into a career.

  
As a writer, he could live in solitude without a problem, only having to rely on himself. He could publish his own stories, write his own pieces, and nobody could tell him otherwise. He found solace in loneliness, and practically thrived off of that being the singular constant in his life. He walks through the house to the kitchen, peering out of the large sliding glass door that reveals the quickly darkening forest. The sky is bright, orange clouds drifting through bright pink tones. He groans, walking over to the sink. He quickly rinses out a glass and fills it, bringing it to his lips as he turns back to the glass. In the sky, a light blinks out of existence. He cocks an eyebrow, craning his neck to see it better. "Guess it started..."

  
He walks outside, sitting down on the steps that connect his driveway and porch. He'd spent far too much on the home, but he was here now and he wasn't going to leave. His novel would carry him through his bills for years; he was set. Lights continue to flash across the sky, lighting it up as it darkens. Black hues begin to bleed through the pink, staining it until it's completely darkened. He stays rooted to the spot, watching in ease as his worries seem to drift away with every flashing comet.

  
That is, until one doesn't burn away as it drifts into the atmosphere.

  
No, it continues falling, getting larger and brighter as it sinks towards the Earth. Youngbin stands up, dropping the glass to the wood. It cracks, the light blinding him as it descends rapidly towards the ground. He pales, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes from the light. The ground shakes when it finally connects with it, rumbling as the comet is begrudgingly accepted by the planet.

  
Slowly, Youngbin uncovers his eyes. He wants to be the first one to see it.

  
He takes off towards the beach, where the comet seems to have landed, and finds himself staring at a smoking disaster when he arrives. "I didn't want to jump the fence tonight!" He whines, but loops his fingers around the wires nonetheless, bringing his legs up until he's rooted to the top. He flings himself over the barrier. The sand is thrown up in high rising dunes, and he races towards them, excitement bubbling up in his blood, which roars and pounds in his ears. "What are you, baby..."

  
Would it be illegal if he were to, hypothetically, take a sample of a comet? Or two samples? Or the entire fucking thing? Youngbin really, _really_ wants to take the entire damn thing.

  
Stepping over the sand, he's stunned into silence when he sees what lays at the bottom of the pit, covered in ash and staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

  
"What the fuck?"

  
So, the comet wasn't a comet - it was a man. A currently naked, terrified man, curled up in an attempt to hide in the sand, with what could very well be fourth degree burns lacing his body. He raises a hand weakly at Youngbin, tears streaming down his cheeks. His other hand clutches his temple, blood slowly leaking through the spaces between his fingers. They tremble with every ragged breath he takes, and he closes his eyes as he waits for the other to make a move. "Don't," he whispers, trying to curl up on his side to hide further in the sand, "don't hurt me." His voice is so weak that Youngbin wonders if he'd really heard it at all.

  
Youngbin slides down cautiously into the pit. "I won't," he assures, crouching down next to the other. He shrinks away, eyes still screwed shut. "Hey," he murmurs, slowly bringing a hand up to pull the other's down so he can see him better, being as gentle as he can as to not startle him, "it's alright, okay?"

  
Hesitantly, the other peers at Youngbin, pulling his hand away quickly. He gasps, lurching forwards to grab at his shoulder. Youngbin panics, putting his hands up. "What, what's wrong?"

  
He notices the slice down the other's shoulder blade instantly, the sand digging further into it. He grimaces as he eyes it, before looking around. People would be coming to investigate soon, he had to get the man out of here before someone else saw him. "Let me help you-"

  
The other gasps, flinching away from Youngbin's touch. "No!" He cringes, glaring at the other. "You'll just make it _worse_!"

  
Youngbin pulls away, eyes widening. He hears someone yell from up the street, and panic sets into him. He didn't want to know what they'd do to this man if they found him, so he grabs the other's wrist and hauls the both of them out of the pit, running towards the forest while the stranger tries to break out of his grip, stumbling after him. "Let go-!"

  
Ducking behind a thick tree, the stranger falls to his knees next to Youngbin, eyes widened with fear. Honestly, Youngbin feels bad for him, softening his gaze as he observes him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, trying not to gather the attention of the group unlocking the gate blocking them from the pit. "I just know they wouldn't be kind to you if they found you," he looks down, cheeks flushed. "Uh, here." He murmurs, pulling off his boots. "I'm going to give you my pants, because you're naked and I'm not and it's going to be really weird if we're walking back fully clothed and naked." Youngbin's finest skill was his way to talk through any awkward moment, to distract himself from the embarrassment of the situation he found himself in. He takes off his jeans, tossing them to the other. "So you put those on, I'm going to tie my jacket around my waist so my boxers aren't so apparent, then we're going to haul ass back to my house before anyone sees us so we can get you fixed up and so you can explain to me how the fuck you fell from the _fucking_ _sky_!" Youngbin's pitch raises with panic as he finally realizes the situation. A man had fallen from the sky. That's not normal. In all of his studies, he had never heard of this. Likely for obvious reasons- that it was impossible.

  
Things such as this were impossible, only having been brought to the imagination by fictitious children's stories; yet, here was a man covered in ash and burns, disproving all of what Youngbin knew and thought he knew. The anomaly looks away, face reddened as he tugs on Youngbin's jeans, lips pulled into a tight frown.

  
While he does this, Youngbin wraps his jacket around his hips, huffing. If nobody payed close attention, he would look like he was just wearing shorts. But, another problem comes to mind. The other was a damn mess. He had deep scratches and growing bruises littering his body, and, along with the residue of an apparent fire, he looked terrible. Aside from that, however, Youngbin was floored by his appearance.

  
Dark hair that swept across his forehead and deep, secretive eyes that swam with colors Youngbin couldn't recognize, as he was too captivated and lost to care to find the details that could make the other look any more human. For Youngbin, the other was too beautiful to be like himself. "You're a mess," he pouts, leaning forward. He presses his thumb against a black spot on the other's cheek, rubbing it quickly. Though, it only makes the spot grow longer and smear up towards his eye. The brunette bites his lip, letting out a quiet laugh. "Shit."

  
Youngbin stands up, extending a hand towards the other to help him up. "Can you walk?"

  
Glaring, the man stands up shakily, knees buckling underneath him the moment he gains his bearings. Youngbin cocks an eyebrow at him, smiling. "Come on." Begrudgingly, the other curls his fingers around Youngbin's, allowing the brunette to pull him up, leaning against him for support. "I don't live far from here, and it's dark... We should be fine getting back unseen."

  
Nodding, the other begins to support himself, breaking away from Youngbin as they walk. He stumbles every so often, tripping over his own feet as if he weren't used to them. Then again, was he? Youngbin can't imagine how he didn't break something when he collided with the ground, and can't even bring himself to believe that this whole scenario wasn't just an oddly vivid fever dream.

  
The streets are deserted, the main attraction for the night being already prodded at the beach, a strangely empty crevice made from a missing comet. _Man_ , Youngbin corrects himself, before turning to look at the other. How was it even _possible_?

  
They walk in silence, and Youngbin sighs in relief when he sees his driveway, quickening his pace. From behind him, there's a soft groan and an even quieter whisper of a, "we're running now?".

  
The gravel turns underneath Youngbin's shoes, and he reaches for his phone in his back pocket, only to remember that 1.) his jeans weren't with him, and 2.), his phone was sitting somewhere in his room underneath what could easily be twelve layers of Youngbin's hoarded necessities. He then remembers his hoarded necessities, cussing under his breath. Was he really about to bring the cutest man he'd ever seen in his entire life into his mess of a house?

  
Yes, since he was about four steps from the front door and taking careful steps to avoid the broken glass on the wood, turning to kick some away. "Careful," he hums, helping the other up the stairs before opening the front door. Youngbin follows him inside, shutting the door behind them before turning on the kitchen light. "Wait here."

  
He doesn't. The moment Youngbin leaves the room he trails after him, shoulders drooping with exhaustion.

  
Youngbin turns, scoffing. "I told you to stay in the kitchen," he sighs, but doesn't shoo the other away. He turns to the bathroom, leaning over to flick the light on. He points to the edge of the bathtub. "Stay in here, I'll be right back. I mean it this time," he warns, leaving once again. Lost, the dark haired man leans against the counter and watches him go down the hall, only to disappear behind a wall and reappear a moment later with a handful of clothes and a towel hanging over his shoulder.

  
The brunette realizes for the first time how tall the other is, and his lips part as he eyes him up slowly. _Fuck_. He was flawless.

  
"Uh," he stutters, cheeks reddening, "sit down there," he motions to the edge of the tub again, looking anywhere but at him, "and I kind of need something to call you..."

  
Shrugging, the taller smiles. "Why?"

  
"Do you not have a name?"

  
He looks at Youngbin like he's the biggest scumbag on the planet. Which, actually, may be what he thinks, because Youngbin could very well be the only person he's ever met before. "Why would I need one?"

  
"Okay, fair point!" Youngbin nods furiously, dropping the clothes he'd grabbed on the floor, which he was confident was clean as he'd scrubbed it a day prior, in a sudden urge to clean everything except his own room. He reaches past the star boy to turn on the water, making sure it was cold so it didn't hurt his burns. He runs a rag under the water before kneeling down in front of the other, smiling faintly. "Come down a bit."

  
Hesitantly, the other leans towards Youngbin, flinching when the cold rag touches his cheek. Though, after a moment, he closes his eyes while Youngbin rubs the cloth over his skin, sighing at the other's gentler touch. He nearly falls asleep in the other's care, but Youngbin begins speaking, drawing him out of his tired state. "I don't think I ever introduced myself, I'm Youngbin." He hums, moving down to the other's neck after his face is cleared. "Just to help me out a bit, what are you?"

  
Shaking his head, the other closes his eyes again. "I don't know," he sighs, drawing out the last word he says. "I just remember falling," he groans when Youngbin trails a scrape on his shoulder, noticing how he avoids the gash that's been causing him problems, "and being scared."

  
After a moment of silence, he continues. "I was lonely before."

  
"Lonely?"

  
"Everything was dark," he elaborates, voice low and quiet, and Youngbin feels him tense with every word. Though, he eases after a moment. "And I was all alone."

  
Youngbin takes the rag away and washes it out under the water, pulling it back to press against a smaller wound on the other's chest. He fidgets with discomfort, but says nothing about the pain, only grits his teeth. "I didn't like it."

  
"Falling?"

  
"The dark."

  
It's childlike, the way he says it. But Youngbin couldn't even imagine what the other must have been through. "Well, It's not dark anymore," Youngbin tries to reassure him, and he smiles softly. Sadly. It breaks Youngbin's heart when his eyes begin to glisten with tears he refuses to let fall.

  
"Not anymore," he agrees, voice breaking. He looks up towards the ceiling, closing his eyes. "Not anymore."

  
Youngbin gets down to his waistline before he stops. "You can get the rest."

  
"I can?" The other asks, thrilled to finally be in charge of something.

  
"Yeah, I'm not helping you because it'll be awkward."

  
"Why?"

  
"Because you'll be naked."

  
"Oh," he nods as if he understands, before looking to the other, grinning with disbelief, "you're kind is sensitive."

  
Turning around, Youngbin scrunches up his face. "Shut up."

  
His jeans land in his lap, and he hears the other wash out the rag underneath the steady flow of water, before he gasps out an excited "what does this do!?", which is followed immediately by a prompt scream. Youngbin turns around just enough to see that the other's turned up the water temperature as high as he can, and has shoved his hand underneath the boiling stream of water to see what had changed. Youngbin scoffs as he leans back to turn it down.

  
Ten minutes later, the oddity is pulling on the sweatpants Youngbin had grabbed for him, watching curiously as Youngbin digs around in the cabinet under his sink to find bandages. When he finally shuts the doors, he's amassed a variety of things on the floor in front of himself. Gauze, peroxide, bandages, and tweezers; to the other, these objects are just a mystery. The star tilts his head to the side, eyeing the gauze curiously. He nudges it with his foot, and Youngbin swats his leg away. "Sit down," he nods to the spot in front of him, and quickly the other obliges, looking at him with wide eyes. "Turn around."

  
Once again, he doesn't hesitate and turns to show the other his back, and Youngbin's jaw drops. He hadn't noticed it before, but thick black lines cross the other's back, a tattoo of sorts that depict what Youngbin can only guess is a map of a constellation. Though, he'd never seen it before, never before gracing the pages of any atlas he'd read through. He lets his finger trail along it, and the other shivers under his touch, looking over his shoulder at him.

"What is this?" Youngbin whispers, to himself primarily, allowing himself to become lost within the intricate design lacing the other's skin. The other doesn't answer, likely not having heard the question.

Small stars litter the space around the lines, and the designs curl angrily around his spine and fade at his shoulders . The gash in the skin had disturbed the design, leaving a hole in the pattern that may never be complete again.

  
"Never mind, just, uh," Youngbin shakes his head, unscrewing the peroxide bottle so he can pour some onto the other's shoulder. "This is going to sting."

  
Nodding, the other clasps his hands together tightly, rolling his eyes back when the liquid seeps through the wound. It hisses for a moment before the chemicals die down, and Youngbin rubs it with a new cloth, grabbing a handful of gauze with his free hand before pressing that to the injury instead. "It's not that bad, but it will be if it gets infected."

  
"Infected?"

  
Youngbin nods, and when the blood's stopped, he leans over towards the trash can to throw out what had been soiled with it, including the cloth. It was stained anyway now, and he could just buy a new one. He dresses the rest of the wound carefully with the bandages, and sets the tweezers on the counter knowing he won't need them. The other thankfully had only suffered scratches, and the peroxide had allowed him to wipe out everything that shouldn't be in the other's skin. "You can change now, it's all done."

  
The other nods, turning to look back at Youngbin. His voice is quiet, his whisper barely audible. "Thank you."

  
Youngbin stands up, laughing. "Don't thank me, just get dressed and we'll find you somewhere to sleep tonight, okay?"

 

  
⋆

 

  
Angrily, Youngbin turns onto his side, feeling a pair of arms tug him back towards the other side of the bed desperately. You can sleep on the couch, he'd said. Okay! The other had responded, then immediately spun on his heel to fall asleep next to Youngbin. The brunette looks to him and grits his teeth, trying to pull away only to be held tighter in response. "Come on," he murmurs, before finally giving up to just lay there.

  
"I don't even know what to call you,' he throws his head back into the pillows, bringing his hands up to card through his hair. The other cracks an eye open tiredly, blinking slowly. They stare at each other for a moment, Youngbin alert while the other's eyes close for a moment before he remembers he's supposed to be awake, and struggles to look back to Youngbin. But, the blankets were warm and he just closed his eyes again, repeating the cycle.

  
"Juho," he says groggily, before turning onto his side to fall back asleep without having to see the other. "My name's Juho."

  
"But you said you didn't have a name-"

  
"I do now." He shuts the other up, pulling the blankets up over his nose, cuddling into them. Youngbin shakes his head, watching Juho fall back asleep with a soft grin on his face, before closing his own eyes to get some sleep for himself.

  
_Juho_.


	2. Chapter 2

**JUNE 13TH, 2018-**

~~_he's clingy but it's kind of cute._~~  


 

 

*

 

 

Youngbin wakes up alone, finding nothing wrong with the situation until he remembers Juho. He sits up quickly, panicked eyes scanning the room until they rest on the other, who's sitting on the floor with a book open in his lap.

"Christ," Youngbin sighs, laying back. The other piques his curiosity, though, and he turns to look at him from where he lays. "What are you looking at?"

Juho doesn't answer him, too immersed with the article he skims through to care for the other. When Youngbin gets tired of being ignored, he slips out of bed and crosses the room to the other, kneeling beside him. Then, Juho finally notices him, turning to look at him while pointing at the book dejectedly. "I can never go back, can I?" His voice is quiet, barely audible.

Youngbin glances at what he's reading; a space atlas he'd bought recently, marked up with notes, then never touched again. The page is opened to one of just pictures, constellations and galaxies staring up at the two meaninglessly. He frowns. "I mean, you got here, so maybe there's a way you can go back.."

"No," Juho laughs coldly, dropping his head down as he closes the book, "it's not possible."

"You being here in the first place isn't possible!" Youngbin reaches over, throwing the book open again. "We'll figure something out." He moves closer, reading the new page over the other's shoulder. After a moment, he turns to look at Juho, who eyes him warily. "Wait, you want to go back?"

Widening his eyes, the other nods. "Of course I do. I don't belong here."

Youngbin looks away. "I know." He brings his hands up, toying with the hem of his shirt. "I thought you didn't like it there, though."

"I don't," Juho agrees, turning back to the book, "but I can't stay here."

"But you might have to."

"But I _can't_." Juho shuts the book and gently sets it down, standing up. "You don't get it. Coming with you _was_ a bad idea…" From his tone, Youngbin can tell he’d put plenty of thought into that decision. He looks at Youngbin from over his shoulder, shaking his head. "I'm not _meant_ to be here." He walks away and tries to open the door, wincing at the burning from his shoulder, caused by the harsh movement. He grabs it, grimacing. "Fuck..."

Youngbin watches the other from the floor, shaking his head. He really couldn't imagine being thrown from his comfortable life into one that made no sense to him, an alternate dimension where everything was backwards and had purpose. Before, Juho was only existing, but now, he had to actually live a life he was never prepared for. "I'm sorry."

"You just don't get it," Juho shakes his head, letting out a soft sigh. "And you never will."

Agreeing, Youngbin utters a tiny "I know," pulling the book into his arms. "But I can try," he glances up, making eye contact from across the room. Juho, albeit slowly, comes back over and sits next to him, resting his head on the brunette's shoulder. "We'll deal with this together, okay? You don't have to be alone."

Juho nods tiredly, staring at the floor. He eyes the book again, before turning his gaze up to Youngbin. "I'm sorry."

"What? Don't be."  


 

* * *

 

 

Walking through the aisles of a supermarket, Juho is practically entranced by every colorful package he sees. Youngbin pushes a cart while he runs ahead, smiling at the other's excited expression.

Juho turns around, walking back to fall back in step beside Youngbin. "And these are _everywhere_?"

"These what?" Youngbin stops at a display, grabbing a loaf of bread from it. "Supermarkets?"

"Yes."

"Obviously," Youngbin laughs, continuing on down the aisle. Juho realizes he's walked away a moment too late and runs to catch up to him, bouncing on his heels. Youngbin had given him another outfit, an oversized black hoodie and black jeans, which made the other look smaller than he really was, hidden underneath the low hanging hood and the sleeves that covered his fingertips entirely. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know!" Juho grins, grabbing onto the other's arm. "Everything here is so weird."

"Hey," Youngbin takes the offensive, shifting so the other's grip on his arm is more comfortable while he pushes the cart, "that's really mean. We're not weird; _you're_ weird."

Gasping, Juho pulls Youngbin's arm closer to himself, pouting. "I am not!"

"Oh, yes you are!"

Grinning, Juho looks up to Youngbin fondly, catching the other's eye easily.

Youngbin looks away quickly, focusing on the coolers they pass. He reaches into one, grabbing a carton of milk. "You can get anything you want, okay?"

Juho nods, opening up one of the freezers cautiously. He props it open with his hip as his free hand snakes inside and grabs a box of popsicles, still clutching Youngbin with the other hand. "Like... These?" Turning back to Youngbin, who watches him with an air of humor around himself, he asks again. “Are these okay?”

"Do you know what they are?"

Shaking his head, Juho drops them into the cart. "No, but the," he pauses to find the word, "packaging?" Youngbin nods. "It's colorful. I like it."

Smiling, Youngbin starts pushing the cart again. "That's all you need to know?"

"Yes."

"Understandable," Youngbin hums, stopping again to grab a box out of the freezers. Juho eyes it curiously. They make eye contact, and Youngbin feels the urge to explain himself. "I can't cook, so we're having pizza for dinner."

Juho nods, humming a quick "understandable."

"Hey," Youngbin pouts, "don't mock me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Juho giggles, unhooking his arm from Youngbin's. "Let's go," he murmurs, fingers wrapping around the handle of the cart, his hand covering the other’s. The brunette pales, watching the other flash him a soft, unknowing grin. "What?"

"You..." Youngbin sputters, shaking his head, "nothing..."

Barely taking a second to let the other calm down, Juho starts laughing. "You're _so_ awkward!"

I am not!" Youngbin defends himself, only for Juho to double over the shopping cart's handle as he continues to laugh. "Hey!" He lets go of the other's hand, cheeks reddening.

Angrily, Youngbin takes control of the cart again and steers them towards the checkout. Juho panickedly grabs the handle to regain his balance before straightening himself out, walking alongside the brunette happily. "You shocked me is all," Youngbin murmurs as he pulls into the self checkout, beginning to scan their items.

Juho hands Youngbin the boxes and packages so he can scan them, still laughing under his breath. "Sorry."

“You're cute and oblivious, so it's fine, but when you start realizing... We're gonna have a problem, chief."

“Or, we won't?"

A woman gives them an odd look from where she stands at the next machine over. Youngbin glances at her, raising an eyebrow challengingly. _He said what he said_. Youngbin sighs, scanning the last item before beginning to tap away on the small display, inputting his information before swiping his card. Juho watches the scene with wide, interested eyes.

Turning to look at him, Youngbin can't help but laugh. Juho's amazed. "Ready to go?"

"Oh! Yeah."

The two make their way back to Youngbin's car. Youngbin had made it a point that he'd carry the majority of the bags, leaving Juho with just one. "I can help, you know,” Juho offers, shifting his bag in his arms.

"You just stand there and look pretty, okay? Leave the heavy lifting to me."

Juho scoffs, but when Youngbin turns around he catches the blush tinting his cheeks. He smirks. "See, that's what it feels like."

Juho pouts as he tosses his bag into the backseat once Youngbin opens the car doors. "That’s so weird," he comments quietly, leaning against the side of the car as Youngbin begins to put his things away, "is that how it always feels?"

Nodding, Youngbin tosses his bags into the back as well. "Well, if you're close enough to somebody."

Juho climbs into the passenger seat. When Youngbin gets in, he catches the other scrunching up his face at him with distaste. "What, did I upset you?" Youngbin reaches over to brush a hand through the other's ebony hair.

"That's just so weird!" He droningly continues, throwing his head back. Then, again with what his favorite phrase must be, "people are sensitive..."

Youngbin hums in agreement, pulling his hand away so he can twist the keys into the ignition, starting up the car.

They drive in near silence, the only sound between them being the radio playing some alternative station softly in the background of their trip. Youngbin can't help but turn to the other every so often as he drives, completely mesmerized by him. Every bit of Juho pulled Youngbin in, but every inch of his own body begged him to run from what was unnatural and impossible. He bites his lip, pulling out onto a back road near his house. The car rolls to a stop and Youngbin leans over to turn up the radio. The unspoken words between them made his skin crawl with nerves.

Juho can't help but watch him, and he leans back in his seat. "I'm tired," he whines, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. He knows he's hooked Youngbin when the other's gaze trails down to it quickly before snapping back to the road. Part of him knows vaguely what he's doing, but when he puts thought to his actions it's foreign and strange to him. He knew how to get by, how to get what he needed, but he doesn’t know how he knows.

Youngbin shrugs, turning onto the desolate road that leads to his home. "You can go to sleep when we get back, I'll make dinner when you wake up."

Juho nods at him before unbuckling from the seat, hooking his slender fingers around the door handle. The moment Youngbin parks the car, Juho jumps out. He then proceeds to go to the back door and struggle to pull it open, grabbing as many bags as he can in his arms. Youngbin widens his eyes.

"Careful!" He doesn't know the other's limits, so he hops out of the car and slams the door behind himself, running over only to realize Juho's already made his way to the front door, nudging the screen open with his hip. Youngbin peeks inside the car to see that only one bag remains. He sighs, lips turning up in the corners.

He grabs it, following the other inside.

They work in near silence while they put the groceries away. It doesn’t take them long, and Youngbin begins to break down the last bag.

"You're tired?" Youngbin remembers as they're nearly finished, and Juho nods.

"Mhm..."

Youngbin brings a hand up to card through his hair, dropping it back to his side moments after. Juho pouts, grabbing his hand just to bring it up to his cheek, cupping his own face within the brunette's fingers. "Your hands are cold."

"Is... Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't think so," Juho mumbles against his fingers, closing his eyes.

"Oh."

Cautiously, he drags his hand away so he can keep putting the groceries away. "Why don't you go up to my room and sleep for a bit?" Juho shakes his head quickly, reaching down to grab the box of popsicles. Youngbin opens the freezer for him and he shoves them in, turning to look at him. "But you said you were tired."

"I want to help," Juho huffs, drawing his lips together. "And, I don't want to be alone." The last sentence is quiet, he speaks through a small pout. He’s definitely childlike, Youngbin realizes, smiling with disbelief and fondness.

"It's not difficult work, just go relax for a bit. You're not used to all of this," Youngbin tries, but, stubborn as he is, Juho shakes his head again, black hair streaming down to frame his face. Youngbin finds himself wanting to reach forward and brush it back. He adds onto his argument softly, attempting to reassure the other. "I'll be right here."

"No."

Shrugging, Youngbin sets the last of the items away before throwing the bags into the near empty trashcan. "Fine, then don't."

After a two minute standoff, Youngbin finds himself once again laying next to the other under the blankets. Juho has them pulled up to his chin, and Youngbin stares at the ceiling boredly. The windows were open, a soft wind blowing in through them and over the two calmingly.

It doesn't take long for Juho to fall asleep, and Youngbin turns to look at him. His finger trails lazily along the other's cheek, and he finds that wherever he touches him, a soft sort of glow seems to shimmer under his skin for a moment before it disappears again. Youngbin can't help but trace small circles on his cheek, slowly finding himself becoming tired as well with the calming motions.

Without realizing what he's doing, he wraps an arm around the sleeping man and pulls him to his chest, holding him there as he falls asleep alongside him.

  


* * *

 

  


Youngbin wakes up to Juho sliding out of the bed, stretching slowly in the darkness. It was pitch black outside, and the only light source in the bedroom flooded in from the hallway and pooled around the door, barely reaching the other half where the bed was located. Youngbin watches the other groggily, turning over onto his side to face him. "Hey," his voice is quiet, just a backdrop to the trees outside whispering to each other in the wind and the pattering of rain against the sides of the home.

Turning to look at Youngbin, who's still buried underneath a mound of blankets, Juho smiles. His skin is pale, more so than usual, and his eyes look tired though the two _had_ to have slept for the majority of the day. When he doesn't answer verbally, Youngbin sits up with worry settling deep within himself. Something wasn’t right.

"What's wrong?"

There's a moment of silence between them. Juho, swaying in the center of the room, smile never leaving his face. Youngbin cocks his head to the side, fingers tightening cautiously around the blankets.

It takes just one second for the world to explode around them. Just one second, and the trees and wind scream outside, leaves beginning to angrily slam against each other. A heavy pattering of rain begins to berate the house, and Juho collapses, eyes drifting shut as his smile falls and he rushes to meet the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**JUNE 14TH, 2018-**

~~_i don't know what to do._ ~~

 

~~_*_ ~~

 

 

Can Youngbin bring him to a hospital?

His mind races as he rushes to catch Juho before he hits the ground, tripping over the blankets he's still trapped under. He sprawls out over the floor, shouting in alarm when the hardwood meets his skin, and burns his arms as he shoves them forward to at least soften the impact of Juho's fall.

Youngbin fights against the sheets, kicking free from them only to slide quickly to Juho's side, panic prominent on his features. He pulls Juho into his lap, cradling his head to his chest as he presses his fingers against his neck to feel for a pulse. There is one, soft and barely beating, but it's there. His breath comes out ragged, cheeks red from the strain.

"You'll be okay," Youngbin whispers fearfully, standing up shakily as he carries the other out towards the bathroom. He was overheating. His skin was hot to the touch, his forehead practically dripping with sweat. He kicks open the door, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as he turns on the water. He struggles to pull off the other's shirt, wrestling to get it over his arms. He decides he's not going to fuck with the pants, he wasn't ready for that, and swings himself over the side so he can ease Juho down into the slowly filling tub easier. "It'll be okay."

Really, he's trying to assure himself. He's terrified, and has no idea what to do. He wasn't human, how could a hospital help him? What if they called in the government? He pulls the other's head up into his lap and reaches down, bringing his hands up soaked in water before pressing them to Juho's face, worriedly continuing the motion until his breathing seems to steady.

Slowly, Youngbin leans back, trembling hands working their way through Juho's hair, anxiously worrying his fingertips over the other's scalp. He feels Juho shift, and sits up quickly to check and see if he's woken up.

He hasn't, but his face is twisted in discomfort and one of his hands reaches up to clutch his chest, sighing quietly. Youngbin, in a panic, turns off the water and grabs the other's hand, pulling it away and into his own grip. There’s a moment where he can’t tell if Juho’s still breathing, and checks again for his pulse.

Once again, he confirms its existence but feels how subtle its motions are. His own is pounding frantically, panicked over the other's sudden condition. "Please wake up," he whispers, once again bringing his hands to the other's head. He feels Juho shift again, then sigh, but nothing else.

So he waits.

  


About ten minutes later Juho begins to sit up, looking around in confusion until he turns and his eyes rest on Youngbin. He smiles shakily, then realizes where he is and drops the expression. "How did we get here?"

Youngbin doesn't want to respond. He grabs the other and pulls him to his chest, holding him close as he rests his head in the crook of the other's neck. He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears his own sobs and feels his body wrack against Juho's.

It's only a few seconds before Juho's holding and supporting Youngbin, fingers trailing down his back in a desperate attempt to feel comforting. "Hey, what's wrong?" He pulls away, pouting as he looks into Youngbin's eyes. "Come on, don't be sad..."

Shakily, Youngbin nods, sniffling. "I was so worried..."

"I'm okay."

Juho smiles, hands still poised over Youngbin's back. They continue to drag along his shirt aimlessly, calming the other's nerves slightly. "Hey," he murmurs, voice hushed and reassuring, "I'm okay, right? I'm okay."

Wiping at his eyes roughly, Youngbin nods, taking one last trembling breath until they fall into ease again. Juho moves to sit next to him, resting his head on the older's shoulder. He locks their fingers together, thumb drawing circles on Youngbin's knuckle. "We're okay."

Youngbin agrees, but breaks off their contact when he stands abruptly. He swipes his hand over his face, trying to ignore Juho's hurt expression as he stands up behind him. "Come on," Youngbin instructs, voice wavering. He doesn't know what to do. Juho could collapse again at any moment; was he dehydrated? Youngbin sighs.

"Where are we going?" Juho follows intently at his heels, pausing when they reach the kitchen. Youngbin grabs him a glass, filling it with water before shoving it into the other's grip. Droplets splash over the rim and onto the other's hand, causing Juho to wince at the freezing water.

"Drink that."

Juho complies, and Youngbin takes the glass when he's finished and refills it. After he drinks the other, Youngbin is satisfied and fills it one more time before leading him back to his bedroom, frown gracing his features.

"Are we going back to sleep?"

"You're going to lay down," Youngbin instructs, setting the glass down on the nightstand when they finally reach the bedroom. Juho doesn't get into the bed until Youngbin lifts the blanket up for him, and even then won't situate himself properly underneath them.

Youngbin crouches down next to the bed as Juho pulls up the blankets, turning to look at him. He cards his fingers through Juho's hair, humming softly. "I'm gonna heat up some dinner. Stay awake, okay? I have some books, if you want to read them…"

"I don’t think I can read your script..."

"You..." It makes sense, really, but Youngbin wasn't expecting it. Trying to recover from the sudden statement he'd received, he picks up an atlas near him. "This is mostly pictures."

When Youngbin stands to leave, Juho reaches out and grabs his wrist, pouting. "Will you be back soon?"

With a reassuring tone, Youngbin answers him. "Of course."

He walks over to his dresser, grabbing his phone from the top of it before leaving the room. He takes one last glance at the other from over his shoulder, walking from his room to the kitchen slowly. Was it the best idea for him to leave the other unsupervised? He isn’t sure. This whole situation is surreal to him, there was nothing he could compare this to, and certainly nothing he could look to for answers on how to handle this.

He blindly grabs the pizza he’d bought earlier and peels off the plastic covering it, shoving it mercilessly into the oven before pulling over a chair from the kitchen table. He sits down and opens his phone, bringing his knees to his chest as he begins to click through the device.

Wondering if, maybe, something similar to what had happened to him had occurred to somebody else, he opens his internet browser and begins to click through it.

**MAN FALLING FROM SKY.**

Noting nothing interesting, Youngbin tries a different search.

**HUMAN FALLS TO EARTH.**

Again, nothing shows up that he could look to for advice or information on the predicament he’d launched himself into. He continues searching, desperate for anything that may show him what to do next, but nothing appears.

He wants to post to a forum, but knows nobody would take him seriously. Youngbin groans, throwing his head back as he drops his phone into his lap. It was hopeless, he realizes, as this was likely the first and last time something akin to this would occur.

So, hopefully things would sort themselves out with Juho. He would heal, and, under Youngbin’s strict care, he hopefully wouldn’t collapse again.

Youngbin can only hope.

He continues to tap idly on his phone, pulse thrumming gently underneath his fingertips. He’s nervous, the anxiety from the previous situation still leaking through him.

After another moment of thought, Youngbin decides that he might as well post to a forum. He’d have to wait another ten minutes for the pizza, anyway, so why not?

There’s plenty of websites he could post to, but only one seems promising. And, since every question had something to do with the paranormal, his wouldn’t stand out too much against the rest. Nobody would come looking for the man who fell from the sky.

 

**A STAR FELL FROM THE SKY.**

_**Recently, there was a minor meteor shower and I came into contact with a man who had fallen from the sky. I took him in and began to look after him, knowing that nobody else would with good intentions.** _

_**Though, about an hour ago, he collapsed.** _

_**He’s doing fine now, laying in** _ _**MY** _ _**bed (which he practically owns now. Seriously, I feel like I have to sleep on the couch), and I’m making dinner.** _

_**But I don’t know what to do.** _

  


He reads over it and hits send without a second thought. He decides afterwards that he’d be fine and overlooked among other interesting forums and questions, noticing his is bordered by ‘ **SKINWALKER FOLLOWED ME HOME** ’ and ‘ **A REGULAR AT MY WORK IS AN INCUBUS** ’. Youngbin was absolutely _fine_.

The oven dings and Youngbin stands up, kicking the chair back towards the table. It falls and crashes to the floor.

“Alright,” he shrugs, watching the piece of furniture slam against the ground. It’s echoed by a soft boom of thunder somewhere in the distance, and he turns back to the window, finding himself unable to be stirred or shaken by any foreign sound. He’s still unsettled by the way Juho had smiled, so reassuringly and so calmly, before he’d hit the floor.

He grabs the pizza out of the oven, dropping it onto the counter before grabbing two plates from the cupboard above it.

Cutting the pizza into slices, Youngbin slides two onto the plates he’d grabbed before spinning on his heel, beginning to walk back to his bedroom slowly. The wooden floors creak, but the sound is drowned out by the torrents outside, echoing inside through the half-opened windows.

When he reaches his room, Youngbin peeks inside the doorway, eyes scanning the dark space. Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the eerie room for just a moment. Papers, messily spread along the floor, sway and crinkle in the draft from the window. The wind whistles outside, through the rocking tree branches and the whispering leaves that border the home.

Juho, laying on his side, back towards Youngbin, traces his finger against the pages of the atlas Youngbin had given him. The motion, aimless and seemingly lost, holds Youngbin in a staring contest. Though, the actions ultimately lose, as they dwindle and stop completely when Juho senses Youngbin in the doorway, turning curiously to watch him come in. “Hey,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. Youngbin frowns.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Juho nods, sitting up. Though outside it screams with the sound of the storm, Youngbin can’t hear a thing. Every sense is dulled to nothing, everything except for his vision, which narrows in on every aspect of Juho that’s willing to be seen.

There’s exhaustion hanging over him like a cloud, dulling his normally bright, curious eyes. His lips are turned down in a soft frown, almost in a pout. His ebony hair is blown and toyed with gently by the draft, and his hands turn and play slowly with the blanket thrown over his lap.

“I’m fine.”

Youngbin steps inside, navigating through the mess on his floor to set a plate on Juho’s lap. He sits down beside him, setting his own plate to the side so he can bring his hands to the star’s forehead, feeling it with his knuckle.

“You’re burning up,” he exclaims quietly, a gasp dying on his lips in a sort of rough exhale. Juho shakes his hand off, whining.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, pitch high as his words drag on far longer than they need to.

Youngbin’s hand drops to the other’s shoulder, then to his arm, before raising to the other’s cheek to check again.

Huffing, Juho allows him to fuss for another moment, tapping his fingers on the edge of his plate impatiently.

Flipping his hand from knuckle to palm, Youngbin hates to confirm the other’s temperature. “Seriously, this is bad.”

Continuing to worry, Youngbin’s immersed in the other’s health once again. Every breath the other takes has Youngbin second guessing what he believes the other’s condition is, and he can’t bring himself to tear away.

Juho can, and does, forcing the other back with a soft push. “Come on, I’m just tired.”

“You’re sick.”

Shaking his head, Juho takes a bite of pizza, eyes lighting up at the taste of it. But, he doesn’t want Youngbin to see his excitement and he looks away. His embarrassment shows through his motions. Speaking around the bite he’d taken, he mumbles out a quiet, “I’m fine,” which has seemingly become his favorite phrase.

Before he can respond, Youngbin’s phone chimes. He checks it, reaching down to grab his own slice of pizza idly as he does. He’d only had on his ringer for emails, and once he sees that the one he’d received was spam, he notices the notifications for his forum.

 

**NEW COMMENT FROM: JSUH**

**NEW COMMENT FROM: KNJ**

**NEW COMMENT FROM: PUSSYDESTROYER12**

  


Well, one of those names wasn’t like the others.

Youngbin clicks on them, biting his lip in concentration. Juho’s too immersed with his slice of pizza to care for what Youngbin’s up to, and completely ignores the brunette as he reads on his phone.

  


**JSUH:**

**Considering that his genetic makeup is so different from ours, and that he isn’t used to the forces of our planet, he may not have much time left if he chooses to stay here. Though, it’s difficult to determine if it’d even be possible for him to return home, as he now has a humanoid body that seems to breathe oxygen primarily. This is definitely a situation, please update us soon, OP.**

  


**KNJ:**

**In addition to ‘JSUH’ (** **LINK** **), it’s absolutely correct that he can’t go back to where he came from. There is no way that you could put him back in the sky in his** **current form** **, and it’s impossible to tell how he even became “human” in the first place.** **This being said, without a clear idea of how he changed, there’s no way to change him back. And, though his body seems to be reacting somewhat well to this planet, there’s no way of telling what will happen in the future. Please let us know if anything else happens that’s of interest, this is quite the story.**

  


**PUSSYDESTROYER12:**

**yo this is fuckin rough. hes dyin in like, two days, place ur bets lmaooo**

  


Youngbin feels sick, and turns his phone off before setting it on the ground. Juho’s finished eating at this point, and he hands Youngbin his plate when the other motions for it. “Do you want another piece?”

“Not right now, are you okay?” Juho pitches forward, but grimaces, bringing a hand up to hold his forehead. Worried, Youngbin tosses the empty plates to the side and urges Juho back down against the pillows, eyes wide as he forgets the comments he’d been left.

“No, no, I’m fine.” He assures, cupping the other’s cheeks. “Lay down, lay down...”

Juho obliges and Youngbin hurriedly brings their dishes back to the kitchen, tossing the leftovers on the counter into the fridge before rushing upstairs to keep an eye on the other again.

He slips into bed, Juho turning to watch him with half-lidded eyes.

Before he can even ask, Juho is reassuring the other of his state. “I’m _fine_.”

  


Youngbin hopes he’s telling the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

**JUNE 14TH, 2018-**

~~_second entry for today. why does he make me so nervous? he’s been sleeping all day, and I just can’t stop my heart from racing._ ~~

  


  


*

  


  


Youngbin hasn’t torn himself away from the forums since Juho had fallen back asleep. It was late in the afternoon, the sky was bright and void of any clouds, and Youngbin was still lying in bed with his laptop open on his chest.

Next to him, Juho rolls over and groans in his sleep. The windows are wide open, letting in a cool breeze that tousles the other’s hair, soft strands swaying in an even softer breeze. His lips are parted in a silent snore, his breathing quiet and slow.

Youngbin’s palm flits across his forehead. His fever had faded about an hour ago. Youngbin was grateful for the change, and had been able to ease his mind about the situation, even if just slightly.

Under his touch, Juho scrunches up his face and swipes at the other’s hand, pulling up the blankets further. His eyelashes flutter but he doesn’t wake, just lets out a soft hum as he pushes himself further into the bed. Youngbin’s gaze softens and he drags his hand away, allowing it to rest between them on the mattress. The other clicks the keys on his keyboard as he types out a response to a new comment on the post he’d made the night before.

No comments are positive.

They all assume the worst, that Juho wouldn’t have much time. Youngbin doesn’t want to believe them, hoping and praying that they’re wrong though all of their explanations are logical and obviously thought through entirely.

 _Juho’s fine_ , he reassures himself, but doubt even creeps around the edges of his own thoughts. How could he be sure?

He refreshes the forum, noticing a blinking red dot in the corner of the page. It hovers above a notification icon, and he clicks it to read over what he assumes to be a new comment.

  


**PRIVATE MESSAGE FROM: ROWOON**

**< IN RESPONSE TO “A STAR FELL FROM THE SKY.”>**

**Is this him?**

**< PICTURE ATTACHED>**

  


Youngbin bites his lip, opening the photograph. He expects a nude, if he’s being completely honest. This website wasn’t _exactly_ the most mature.

When he opens the message further, though, he’s floored. A teenager looks up to the camera, a smile adorning his soft features. Youngbin notices on his shoulder a black tattoo that trails down beneath his shirt collar, which looks eerily similar to the design that crossed Juho’s skin. Quickly, he writes a response.

  


**KYB:**

**No, that’s not him. But please, elaborate on who that is?**

  


It takes three seconds for the other to begin typing again. Youngbin counts the time, breath hitching when the response comes.

  


**ROWOON:**

**He fell last month.**

  


Youngbin can’t respond before the other is shooting off another text, followed by another and another until Youngbin feels he’s drowning in the texts.

  


**ROWOON:**

**I know this website is for people who are probably just fucking around, and I’m really hoping you’re being genuine here with your story because I’m telling you the honest truth when I tell you that this boy, about a month ago, fell from the sky.**

**ROWOON:**

**He fell, and I took care of him, and now he’s gone and it’s fucking killing me.**

**ROWOON:**

**He asked me to give him a name**

**ROWOON:**

**I called him Chanhee. It was cute, it suited him**

**ROWOON:**

**He was so fucking kind. There wasn’t a bad bone in his body, he was innocent and sweet and did nothing but smile and laugh constantly and I fucking loved him so much.**

  


**KYB:**

**What do you mean he’s gone?**

  


**ROWOON:**

**t’s really hard to explamn**

**ROWOON:**

**But he disappeared. He just faded out of existence. I was hopign he’d gone back to where he came from and unfortunately fell again; I was praiyng you had found Chanhee.**

  


**KYB:**

**Rowoon – I’m sorry.**

  


**ROWOON:**

**plea se don’t get attachde**

**ROWOON:**

**dont hurt yourself like that**

  


**KYB:**

**I’m sorry**

**KYB:**

**I’m so sorry**

  


**ROWOON:**

**me too**

  


Youngbin closes the screen of his laptop, letting out a breathy sigh that causes the boy beside him to stir, head lifting to stare at the man who’d interrupted his sleep.

“Good morning,” he mumbles, laying back down. His eyes, half-lidded, scan the other groggily. Youngbin nods, too immersed in his own thoughts to respond. Could losing Juho really be a possibility? He’d thought about it, but it didn’t worry him before. “What?”

The brunette shakes his head. “Nothing,” Youngbin sits up, moving the laptop to the end of the bed, “nothing.”

A shrug is the only response he receives. Juho sits up after him, wrapping his arms around Youngbin’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

Confused, Youngbin turns to look at him. “For what?”

“For taking care of me.” Juho mumbles, resting his cheek against Youngbin’s back. “Thank you,” he repeats, his voice quiet alongside his soft actions.

Youngbin brings a hand up to brush through the other’s hair, fingers toying with the messy strands absentmindedly as he speaks. “You don’t have to thank me,” he starts, fingers dropping down to the other’s cheek before they jump back up, brushing his dark hair back, “it’s okay.”

Silence encapsulates them.

Youngbin turns, drawing the other slowly into his arms. He holds him against his chest, feeling the other’s hair tickle his cheek. He wouldn’t lose Juho; he would make sure of it.

For as long as he could, Youngbin would protect him. And when the time came for him to be unable to, he would find somebody else to. Juho would be safe with him, no matter what.

Juho glances up to him, but doesn’t make an attempt to break away from where he’s locked tightly in the other’s arms. He pouts. “Are you crying?”

“What?” Youngbin swipes at his face, shocked when he feels tears under his fingertips. “Oh,” he pulls his hand away, looping it back around Juho again. “I guess so.”

With a worried expression Juho settles back against Youngbin. “You cry a lot...”

“I’m a sensitive guy.”

“Mm,” Juho nods, ebony hair bouncing at the movement, “is that a good thing?”

Laughing, Youngbin spares a quick glance at the other. “To some people, sure. Lots of people _love_ sensitivity.”

Juho reaches up and cups Youngbin’s cheek in his palm, the ghost of a smile beginning to whisper across his lips. “You have a nice laugh.”

“I...”

 _Don’t get attached_.

Youngbin smiles, thanks Juho, and breaks off the contact. He stands up, walking over to his dresser to grab both of them a change of clothes. “Come on, I want to check that scrape on your shoulder.”

  


* * *

 

  


Waiting outside of the bathroom door, Youngbin watches the sunset through the window across the room from him. He and Juho had truly stayed in bed for the entire day; he thought it was pure luck that they’d been able to break away from the warm blankets in the first place.

The shower blasts in the room behind him, and he can’t help but listen closely to make sure he can still hear the other’s soft, melodic humming against the stream of water.

The sky darkens outside. Youngbin taps his fingers impatiently against his thighs, his hair soaked and dripping ice down the back of his neck. A cold breeze filters in through the opened kitchen door and makes him shiver.

Aside from the kitchen light, the visibility inside the home was dwindling. Shadows danced in each corner, growing longer and darker with each passing second. Youngbin draws his knees to his chest, back pressed against the bathroom door as he waits for Juho.

The shower dies off a moment later, the heavy stream of water fading into a soft trickle. Youngbin closes his eyes, sighing as he hears a towel being pulled off of the rack. _He’s fine, stop worrying yourself_.

Rowoon’s messages had him on edge. He couldn’t help but second guess every thought he had, with his future with Juho and about the other in general. He rolls his shoulders in discomfort, the sleeves of his hoodie trailing on the cold wooden floors absently.

The door opens suddenly and he gasps, stumbling back. He looks up to Juho, who looks down at him with a confused smile. “What?”

Youngbin shakes his head quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. He gets up, dusting off his knees before looking to the other.

With his dark hair framing his face, he looks vulnerable. Small, even though he was taller than Youngbin, in the soft pink sweatshirt he’d been given. It hangs down over the ripped jeans he’d fussed over before. He pouts. Youngbin smiles.

“ _Why- no, Youngbin, they’re broken._ ”

“ _The fuck do you mean they’re broken? They’re fine._ ”

 _Juho motioned to the tears on the knees and thighs on the jeans Youngbin had unceremoniously tossed into his arms._ “ _They’re broken_.”

“ _Hon’… No_.”

“You look cute,” Youngbin hums, then pauses, realizing what he’d said. Juho, unknowing of any other implication the words could have, grins and thanks him.

He flicks off the light, furthering the reign of the shadows in the home, and steps closer to Youngbin, shivering in the draft. “What are we doing tonight?”

Taking a step away, Youngbin grabs his phone off of the floor and walks over to the door. Juho follows at his heels. “Let’s go out.”

There’s excitement written clearly across the star’s face. “Really?”

Youngbin wants to laugh and pull him closer, stop his shivering. Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “Yeah, sure.” Unsaid words, an unused, loving tone, hang behind his lips. He bites his lower lip in an attempt to keep them locked up, where Juho will never hear them.

Youngbin kicks a pair of shoes towards Juho from where they’d been laying idle on the floor, and slides his own on.

When Juho’s ready he follows Youngbin out of the home and down the porch, the door swinging shut behind them. He gasps when the wind hits them, slamming against his cheeks and bared knees. He winces, as if it’s physically hurting him, as he reaches forward and grabs Youngbin’s hand.

Quickly, the older breaks away to open the car’s passenger door, ushering the other inside. Once again, he ignores the other’s hurt expression and pushes down the guilt that nagged at him and his heart. He felt cruel, treating the other this way.

Trying to ignore it, he slides into the front seat and fishes for the keys in the console. He’d had a habit of leaving them in his car, and he pulls them out from under a pile of pens slowly. “Where do you want to go?”

Blankly, Juho looks out the window, eyebrows drawn down in thought. His lips are parted softly, barely, and his voice comes out quiet. “Anywhere.”

Youngbin fucking hates himself.

He pulls off, sad glances thrown from the road to the anomaly in the passenger seat. An apology drifts down beneath his silence, and he can’t bring himself to drudge it back up. He _is_ sorry, terribly sorry, but he can’t bring himself to admit why he felt like he did. How could he? _‘Hey, I’m scared you’re going to die so I’m distancing myself from you. Sorry?’_. He could never do that to Juho.

So, to break the tension, he takes a hand off of the wheel and throws it onto Juho’s, squeezing his fingers gently. “Let’s go stargazing.”

“That sounds fun.” Juho’s voice betrays his words, sadness seeping through the syllables like poison through blood.

Youngbin takes his hand away slowly, pulling off of the dirt road that leads to his house onto one of the town’s streets. There was a park overlooking the ocean, where the lights of the stores and homes faded, the stars and sky clearly visible among the field. “It will be,” Youngbin assures, and Juho turns to look at him. When Youngbin smiles, he lowers his gaze, nodding.

“Okay.”

Pouting, Youngbin continues driving. He doesn’t attempt to speak again until he pulls into the parking lot. He did this often, only accompanied by an atlas or map of the constellations, and he had plenty of blankets in the back of the car to keep them warm.

“Come on,” he urges, opening his own door. Juho follows him out, standing awkwardly next to his door until Youngbin peeks around the end of the car as he pulls open the trunk. “Help me out with this?”

The premise of helping is enough to draw Juho out of his depressed nature, bringing a glint of excitement to his eyes as he rushes to Youngbin’s side, happily taking the blanket he’s handed. “Thank you,” Youngbin hums, reaching up to grip the trunk of the car, dragging it back down with one hand as the other clutches another blanket to his own chest. It unfurls itself and the end of it drags against the ground. Juho panics, dropping to his knees to keep it off of the pavement.

Quickly picking up the loose end of the blanket, Juho stands up next to Youngbin again, eyes wide and curious as he waits for Youngbin to do something. The brunette quickly takes the other end of the blanket, thanking the other before leading him towards the woods that border the parking lot.

A path that leads up to the field looms ahead of them, dark and alluring as it cuts through the forest. Juho gapes at it, and with his free hand he reaches down to grab Youngbin’s hand. Youngbin, feeling slightly nervous from the darkness and the quiet, intertwines their fingers and falls in step beside the other.

“It’s dark,” Juho comments, voice low and fearful. Youngbin chuckles, moving a bit closer and a bit further ahead, pulling Juho along behind him gently.

“If you’re scared, just hold onto me tighter.” Juho doesn’t hold back at the other’s offer, pressing himself roughly against Youngbin’s back. “Oh, alright.”

Juho scrunches his eyes closed, reminded of everything he’d known before he’d met Youngbin, and prays that that’s not where he’s headed back to. The loneliness he’d grown used to from his past claws restlessly at his subconscious. Sometimes, it slices through and the feeling shoots through him, awakened by his worrying; other times it slinks away and allows Juho to imagine a world where he didn’t know the feeling in the first place.

Soon, they pass through the forest and arrive in a clearing. The trees cut away from in front of them, surrounding the field protectively. Above them, the sky stretches out into infinity, and the moon and stars illuminate the long grass underneath them. Across from them, the trees fall away, replaced by a fence that bars off the field from the edge of the cliff it sits on. The ocean, shimmering and glistening from the rays of the moon, crashes and sways. The waves are loud, but not deafening.

“You can open your eyes now,” Youngbin offers, and Juho takes a step back, hand still wrapped tightly around Youngbin’s.

Gasping at the sight, Juho breaks away and walks ahead of the other, spinning in circles as he tries to take in everything around them. Youngbin laughs, following him before laying the blanket down. He’s easily able to pull the other from Juho, and throws it over his lap as he sits down. “Come on,” he reaches up, taking Juho’s hand back into his own.

Following him down to the blanket, Juho’s eyes are locked on the ocean, wide and intrigued at the water. Youngbin slips the blanket over his shoulders, pulling Juho closer so they can sit underneath it together. “Tomorrow night, I’ll take you to the beach, if you want.”

Juho nods, hair bouncing. “Yes!” He’s breathless at the view, and Youngbin can’t help but allow himself to let his guard down. The scenario is just too peaceful; he can’t resist but to give up on feeling afraid for the future.

Now, he was in the present. Together with Juho. The future was just the future, ever-changing and hanging over them like a dark cloud. But now was now, and they were content now.

Youngbin smiles, and feels the other’s head fall onto his shoulder. He hums, an arm snaking around Juho’s waist to pull him closer still, his hair tickling Youngbin’s cheek. “Then it’s settled,” he murmurs, finally sparing a glance upwards to the sky.

He understands why Juho had been so immersed in the sight before. The sky is black, with dark strands of blue and indigo spiraling throughout thin, gray clouds. The moon hangs low and tinted orange over the ocean, and the stars are pinpricks against the sheets of the universe.

Before he can point out to Juho one of the constellations he can recognize, to either impress him or to just simply show him, Juho begins speaking.

“I’m happy I’m here with you,” he mumbles, and Youngbin feels his heart clench. “Whatever happens, I’m glad I met you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Youngbin swallows thickly, both arms around Juho at this point, anchoring the star to him and to the ground, holding him hostage in his hands. “’Whatever happens’ sounds so ominous...”

Shrugging, Juho continues. “You’re my first real friend, you know? I’m grateful that I was able to meet you.”

Youngbin feels his eyes fill with tears, and he turns away to avoid the other seeing them. “I’m,” he whispers, shaking his head slowly, “I’m glad I met you, too.”

In silence, they watch the sky, the only sound between them the crash of the waves from somewhere below.

Youngbin sees the future on the horizon.


	5. Chapter 5

**JUNE 15TH, 2018-**

_W_ ~~_hat’s t_ ~~ _h_ ~~_e point of this? I know I shouldn’t be getting attached, but I can’t help m_ ~~ _y_ ~~_self._ ~~

  


  


_*_

  


  


Youngbin balances a bowl of popcorn on his lap, one arm locked around Juho while the other holds the dish straight as he adjusts his legs.

They were spending the day inside, and planned on sneaking to the beach that night when nobody was around to see them. Youngbin knew somebody who worked as a lifeguard there, Inseong, who would let them inside without a second thought. He’d done it for Youngbin often in the past.

Last night, they’d come home after hours of scanning the sky aimlessly. Youngbin had stopped at a fast food restaurant to grab dinner, and had been able to excitedly show Juho plenty of other things. He’d liked everything Youngbin had offered to him; especially anything sweet. He’d nearly cried at how much he enjoyed a simple milkshake. After getting home, they’d gone to sleep. Juho, once again a hostage to Youngbin’s arms, while Youngbin found himself a hostage of his own will. He didn’t _want_ to be so close to Juho, but he couldn’t help it. He was trapped on a path there was no running from.

Fate was cruel.

“So, what’s happening now?” Juho looks to Youngbin from where his gaze had been locked on the television, eyebrow arched curiously. They were reclined on the couch, watching an older romance movie that had been playing nonstop on some channel Youngbin couldn’t care less about. But Juho wanted to watch it; how could he say no?

Youngbin analyzes the scene. “Well, that guy’s about to confess his feelings to that girl.” He motions to the screen, rolling his shoulders back against the couch. “Just basic romance movie stuff.”

“He’s confessing what, exactly?”

Juho leans closer to Youngbin, looking up to him curiously. Hesitantly, Youngbin cocks his head to the side as he comes up with the description for the scenario in his head. How could he describe love to somebody who’d never felt it before?

“He loves her,” he mumbles, and this only causes Juho to widen his eyes, full of a desperation to know more.

At Youngbin’s absence of words, Juho sits forward abruptly, grabbing onto his hand. “Tell me more.”

“It...” Youngbin laughs, shaking his head. “It’s hard to.” Juho pouts and Youngbin loops an arm around him, drawing him back down against his side. “It’s like, being really close to somebody.”

Juho motions to them. Youngbin frowns at the insinuation. “Not like us, no. Close emotionally.”

“I think we’re very close,” Juho argues. Youngbin sighs.

“Well,” he tries, shrugging, “romantically close.”

Shifting away from him, Juho crosses his arms. “I still don’t get it.”

Youngbin groans, lifting the bowl off of his lap so he can lay down, setting it back on his chest a moment later. “I don’t _know_ how to describe it to you...”

Quietly, Juho murmurs a quick “what does it feel like?”. He drags his feet up on the couch underneath himself. Youngbin’s gaze softens and he closes his eyes, hating that he’s so attached to him though they’ve only known each other for less than five days.

“You get excited at the thought of being around the other,” he starts, keeping his eyes closed as to avoid looking at the other, becoming more immersed with him than he already was. “Your heart beats really fast, and you feel nervous though you look forward to seeing them.”

After another short pause, Juho breaks the soft silence. “And..?” He inquires, leaning back against the couch.

“And...” Youngbin cracks an eye open, scanning it lazily over Juho; over the curves on his face to the wrinkles in his sweater, down to the way his legs bend underneath himself. “You’d do anything for them. They’re the first thing you think about in the morning, and the last thing you’d think about at night. They’re your _everything_.”

He’s sure Juho doesn’t understand. Positive he’d just ask more questions, unsure of everything Youngbin had told him. But, he doesn’t. He nods, stoic, and returns to watching the movie, lips seemingly glued together.

He doesn’t speak for the entirety of the rest of the movie. Youngbin can’t help but worry, but keeps silent, hoping that his lack of speech will draw something out of Juho, enticing him to speak further to fill the growing chasm of silence between the two of them.

It doesn’t.

  


“Come on, Inseong,” Youngbin crosses his arms, phone nestled between his shoulder and ear as he speaks into it, “do it for _me_.”

There’s something sleeping dormant in Youngbin’s voice, something that sends shivers down the spine of the person he’s speaking to. Juho notices it, cocking an eyebrow curiously. It’s suggestive, the way his voice pitches up slightly at the end of his sentence, the way a whine tucks itself neatly into his tone. “Be nice to me.”

There’s a pause, and a smirk begins to play on Youngbin’s lips. Inseong takes a sharp, shuddering breath from the other end of the phone.

“ _Alright,_ ” he grumbles, mumbling his response, “ _I’ll stay and unlock the gates for you_.”

“Always so good to me,” Youngbin continues, leaning back in his seat. Juho doesn’t understand, but he knows there’s something there, something in Youngbin’s posture and his eyes that’s just fucking _deadly_ when it’s unleashed.

Inseong chokes from the other end of the line, hissing a quick, “ _don’t do this to me right now_.”

Feigning his innocence, Youngbin pouts. He seems to forget that Juho’s even there with him, too immersed with Inseong to care.

There were two directions he could travel in. One sat in front of him, with dark hair and skin like porcelain, every glimmer in his eyes a new constellation for Youngbin to be lost in. The other is an array of breathless moans, wrinkled bed sheets and the roaring, overpowering sound of the ocean’s waves. The first option ends in heartbreak, as does the second. Youngbin just had an affinity for hurting himself.

“Sorry,” Youngbin sighs, shoulders drooping. Juho sticks his bottom lip out as he turns his attention to Youngbin’s hands, which lay idly on the table in front of him. He reaches forward and picks one up, playing aimlessly with Youngbin’s fingers. The brunette tenses at first, but the more Juho fiddles with his skin the less he worries, and hesitantly he allows the contact.

“ _I’ll see you soon_ ,” Inseong hangs up, leaving Youngbin with a sour taste in his mouth. Inseong was an old flame, a college student with looks that could kill and a voice that could sink ships. Youngbin had called him his siren. Inseong had called him his.

Flames burned out, though, after their powerful and sometimes dangerous performances. They would whittle themselves down, leaving nothing behind but smoldering coals and the occasional burn on the unlucky hand that had dared to test its ability.

That would be the case for Youngbin and Inseong, as Inseong had found something much more pleasing in the dark haired intern that couldn’t care less for him.

Youngbin’s fingers begin to dance around Juho’s, eliciting a small giggle from the other who doesn’t expect the sudden movement.

It was possible Youngbin had found somebody else, as well, though his heart still ached for the blonde lifeguard with the sun in his smile and the saltwater on his skin. It was selfish, but he still wanted him.

He still remembers first meeting him, fingers looped around the top of the fence as the moonlight played tricks with his face. Inseong, having stayed late to finish his homework in the light of the sunset, staring at the brunette as he attempted to clamber clumsily over the wire that separated him from the ocean.

  


_“Um, hey,” the lifeguard had called out, unsure of how to handle the situation. It was his second week on the job, couldn’t the crackheads just leave him be until he got used to everything else? “We’re… The beach is closed.”_

_“You don’t own the waters,” Youngbin had laughed, shaking the fence. He gasped, grabbing onto it with as much strength as he could to avoid toppling over and onto the concrete. The lifeguard had just stared, too curious to shoo him away._

_He could lose his job, but something urged him forward, moving to help Youngbin down the side of the fence._

_Youngbin had turned the moment his shoes hit the ground, only inches away from the other. The unmistakable scent of saltwater taffy clung to the stranger like a lifeline._

_“I’m Inseong,” the blonde murmured, taking a slight step back._

_The brunette nodded, starting to walk towards the shore. Inseong followed him blindly. “I’m Youngbin.”_

  


“Let’s go,” Youngbin hums, standing up. His hand breaks away from Juho’s, swiping the keys off of the table next to him. Juho bites his lip, and walks ahead of Youngbin. He slips on the shoes he’d been given the night before and leads the brunette towards the car, his excitement apparent in every step he took.

Youngbin, however, only dreaded seeing Inseong again.

  


_Their second meeting was planned._

_“So, you’re an artist?” Youngbin hummed, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets as he walked through the night besides Inseong, the wind that gentle tousled their hair smelling strongly of the waves and the sea that had brought them together. “That’s cool.”_

_Inseong laughed, embarrassment coloring his cheeks pink. Though, it could have easily been the chilly night air, as well, that had made them turn that color. Either way, Youngbin liked it. “It’s nothing, really, just sketches.” His voice trailed off as he turned to look to Youngbin. “But you’re an_ author _, that’s really cool.”_

_“I’m not published or anything,” Youngbin had mumbled, his shoe scuffing the pavement as he walked, “just drafts.”_

_“Well, regardless, you should let me read one of them sometime.” There’s something in his voice that just tells Youngbin that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. And, being honest, he didn’t want to give the blonde that answer._

 

The walk to the car is long for Youngbin, each step drawing up a new memory that he’d rather repress and drown.

  


_Their third meeting, their first official date._

_Inseong’s desperate hands, tugging on the ends of Youngbin’s shirt as they laughed drunkenly on the grass of the park overlooking the beach._

_Youngbin’s quiet scolding, laughter interrupting his pleas of ‘be patient’, his own hands racing to grip Inseong’s hips._

  


He slides into the front seat, shoving the key into the ignition.

  


_“How could you keep these from me?”_

_Youngbin watched Inseong from across the room, the blonde’s eyes wide as he read through yet another one of Youngbin’s unfinished novels.”These are amazing! I’m obsessed.” His hair was golden in the light streaming in through the windows of Youngbin’s living room. Outside, the leaves were blowing softly, whispering to each other in the sunlight._

_Sheepishly,_ _Youngbin ha_ _d looked to the ground, smiling bashfully. “They’re not that good.”_

_“Are you kidding!?”_

  


“Something on your mind?” Juho asks, grinning. He’s thrilled to be going to the beach, and even more upbeat that he’s going to spend another night like the prior one with Youngbin.

The brunette smiles, fingers trembling. He wraps them around the steering wheel to hide how they betray his calm and collected voice. “I’m fine, Jjuong.”

“Jjuong?”

The nickname throws off Youngbin, who hadn’t realized he’d even said it in the first place. “I...”

“It’s cute!” Juho smiles, bringing his hands up to his face to hide his expression. “Jjuong...”

 

_“Stay still,” Inseong fussed, glasses slipping down his nose as he concentrated on his drawing. Youngbin swung his legs impatiently, fingers drumming boredly against the table._

_“Babe, we’ve been sitting here for hours, my ass hurts,” he complained, hearing the blonde’s soft laugh from next to him. The sound had his heart soaring, though it was the most familiar sound to him. “Let’s go get dinner...”_

_“I’m just about done,” Inseong assured, and after a moment he sets his pencil down, flashing the sketchbook to Youngbin. “Here.”_

_“I...” Youngbin gaped at the drawing, which frankly looked much more like a photograph to him. “This is amazing.”_

_“You’re amazing.”_

  


The drive after that is silent, and Youngbin hates the look of the beach when he pulls up to it. Inseong stands at the gate, hands hidden in his, no, Jaeyoon’s jacket, as he waits. Youngbin despises the look of it, the black sleeves clashing against the white body of the outfit. Juho looks at him. “That’s your friend?”

“Yeah,” Youngbin nods, “that’s my friend.”

 

_“I think we should see other people.”_

 

Youngbin parks the car and steps out, hearing Juho directly behind him as he walks towards Inseong.

  


_“Were you cheating on me?” Youngbin had asked, drunk, on the phone with Inseong a week after their breakup. “Just be honest.”_

_Inseong had screamed. There were tears, sobs, Youngbin can’t remember who was the one crying. It may have very easily been the both of them. “How could you think I would cheat on you?”_

 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Juho lowers his gaze, feeling the tensity in the air between the other two as Inseong unlocks the gate. The blonde had obviously expected something else to happen that night, as after the gate is unlocked he shoves past them and drops the keys into Youngbin’s hands. “I have to go.”

Not wanting to look up to him, Youngbin nods. “Okay, I’ll lock up.”

“Thanks.”

He leaves and Youngbin watches it happen for the second time. Juho hesitantly reaches up to grab his hand. Youngbin wraps his fingers around Juho’s, grounding himself to the moment. The waves crash behind them, and the sun begins to stretch its arms out towards the horizon, accepting its fate as it sinks towards the sea.

Youngbin’s made his choice.

 

Youngbin and Juho stay on the beach for hours, barely speaking as they watch the waves roll and pound on the shore with purpose. Juho has his head resting on Youngbin’s lap, and Youngbin plays with his hair restlessly, finding the motions soothing as he calms down from the previous encounter with Inseong.

Being with Juho made him feel happier, less afraid of his actions. Though, he was worried about their future, he felt relaxed as he realized he was in the present. For now, he didn’t have to worry about anything that may happen. Now, he could enjoy the time he had with Juho.

The star looks up to Youngbin, who glances down at him. “What’s up?”

“I have a question,” he mumbles, face reddening. Youngbin wonders if the color in the other’s face is just his mind playing tricks on him in the dark of the night.

“Yeah,” he nods, leaning back when Juho sits up, “what’s going on?”

“That movie from earlier...”

From the forest behind them, Youngbin can hear a cricket begin chirping. Though, when a soft wind blows past, it promptly quiets down, assessing the situation to see if the breeze was a threat to it.

“Is love common?”

The moon shimmers down on the water and illuminates everything underneath. Minnows with glistening silver skin flash as they swim, flickering on the surface before they dip beneath again. The cricket begins to chirp again, and is accompanied this time by a quiet chorus as its friends begin to join in.

Youngbin is lost in the moment. “Yeah, if you want it to be.”

“Explain?” Juho doesn’t command it, he simply asks, leaning his head against Youngbin’s shoulder.

“Love is just love,” Youngbin shakes his head, “It’s a feeling, you know? I love this moment, I wish things could always be _just_ like this moment. And, sometimes you love people. It can be common, sure, if you’re open to it.” He trails off, mind skidding over Inseong before returning to the setting he’s currently in. _Stop thinking about him_.

“Do you love anyone?”

“Of course,” Youngbin hums, “I love my family. And my friends, my novels...”

“Me?”

Laughing, Youngbin throws an arm around Juho’s shoulders. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”

There’s a soft, ghostly smile on Juho’s face. It’s a horrible attempt to conceal the fear that resides in Juho’s eyes.

“What?” Youngbin suddenly pitches forward, hand trailing upwards and onto Juho’s forehead. “What, are you feeling okay? Do you feel sick?”

Shaking his head, Juho looks away. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, it’s something,” Youngbin states, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

 

_“Come over?”_

_“I’m not doing that to us, Inseong.”_

  


“I think I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiiiiiiiiii! i realized recently that i'm not writing notes at the end of my chapters o;3;o i'm sorrrrryyyy  
> SO HI  
> i hope ur enjoying this fic so far ♡♡♡ also buckle the fuck up shit's gonna get sad fast  
> this is probably going to be 1/2 updates for this weekend, as i'm seeing sf9 in nyc on sunday and i'll write the next chapter on the train on my way to the venue ♡♡♡ so there may be another update on sunday night! keep an eye out for it :ooo  
> i love you so much, thank you for reading whatever this is. ilysm   
> -love, elise (˙༥˙(
> 
> also shameless plug i want ATTENTION
> 
> my cc (you don't need an account to leave me anon messages (please)): https://curiouscat.me/inbox  
> my twt (i'm annoying here but post about my fics often): https://twitter.com/blossomfic


	6. Chapter 6

**JUNE 15TH, 2018-**

_..._

 

 

_*_

 

 

Juho’s statement clings to thin air, hovering around Youngbin for much longer than it was supposed to. The other’s words have his head reeling, and even the roaring of the sea is silent as the world seems to hold its breath, waiting for Youngbin’s response. The crickets have quieted themselves, leaving the scene in an uncomfortable sort of stillness unwilling to be permeated by any sort of disturbance.

When Youngbin opens his mouth to respond, no sound comes out. His lips, parted, just allow him to take in a sharp intake of breath, his spinning head desperately trying to analyze the situation further. “You… No you don’t.”

“Youngbin,” he whispers, his deep voice echoing through Youngbin, making him feel hollow, “ _please_.”

“You don’t,” Youngbin attempts to assure Juho, raising his hands up defensively, “please tell me you don’t.”

“I don’t know,” Juho’s eyes are wide, glimmering with what Youngbin’s hoping aren’t tears. “I don’t know and I’m scared and every time I look at you I just...”

“You don’t.”

Juho bites his lip. “Then tell me what I’m feeling. I don’t _know_ what this is. I’m scared, Youngbin.”

He can’t help himself. Youngbin envelops Juho in his arms, burying his face into his neck. “I am too, Juho.”

Hesitantly, the star wraps his arms around Youngbin, and the brunette hears a muffled sob next to his ear. He pulls away quickly, eyes widening as his thumbs swipe at the tears underneath Juho’s eyes. “No, no, don’t cry, don’t cry.” His gaze softens, hands curling around the other’s cheeks. His thumbs roll circles over Juho’s skin aimlessly, calming motions soothing the other’s labored breathing.

Chest rising and falling rapidly, Juho sniffles, his breath coming out in uneven gasps. “I,” he chokes on a sob, shaking his head, “I don’t want to fade.”

The waves crash behind them. Youngbin doesn’t register what Juho’s said at first, but slowly he cocks his head to the side. “What… What do you mean?”

Juho collapses forward into Youngbin’s arms, sobbing loudly. “Hey, hey,” Youngbin attempts to soothe him, hands stroking his back protectively, “I’m taking us home.”

 

 

 _Fade_.

Youngbin lays awake that night, Juho between his arms.

What did Juho mean by fade? The question keeps Youngbin’s eyes wide open, and he feels that he’s heard the phrase before somewhere.

It takes him just seconds to reach over to the nightstand and snatch up his phone, opening up his messages quickly. Rowoon had said Chanhee had faded, hadn’t he?

 

**KYB:**

**help**

 

Rowoon takes milliseconds to respond.

 

**ROWOON:**

**What’s wrong**

**Are you okay**

**Are you hurt**

**Do I. Like. Need to call an ambulance**

 

**KYB:**

**No, what?**

**My star, he told me he was scared to fade. Right after telling me he thought he loved me.**

**When I asked him about it he couldn’t remember saying it**

 

**ROWOON:**

**I can’t help you with that.**

**Sorry.**

 

**KYB:**

**? You’re the ONLY person who can**

 

**ROWOON:**

**No, I’mnot.**

**Text : @HWIYOUNG [LINK]**

**This happened to him too**

 

**KYB:**

**!!!**

**Thank you, Rowoon. Thank you so much**

 

**ROWOON:**

**Please be careful. Goodnight.**

 

**KYB:**

**Goodnight.**

 

Youngbin wonders if he really wants to go through with confiding in yet another stranger. But, oddly enough, he trusted Rowoon. He trusts him enough to open the link and write out a small message, straight to the point while being as allusive of the main subject as he can.

 

**KYB:**

**Rowoon said you could help me.**

 

It was so late; Hwiyoung must have been sleeping. He had his location on his profile, and Youngbin found it coincidental that they were only two hours away from each other. Hwiyoung was in the nearest city, somewhere Youngbin despised and dreaded traveling to.

A blinking dot shows up on his screen. He’s shocked that the other was awake, and that they were responding so quickly to him.

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Rowoon’s told me about you.**

**I don’t know if I can help you.**

 

**KYB:**

**Then why did Rowoon tell me to talk to you?**

 

Hwiyoung starts typing but stops. He never responds, and the longer Youngbin waits the higher his anxiety begins to skyrocket.

 

**KYB:**

**Please**

**Please, Hwiyoung**

**I’d do anything**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

…

**My star stayed.**

**He never faded, I don’t know why**

 

**KYB:**

**What?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**< PICTURE ATTACHED>**

 

The photograph was obviously just taken. A dark haired boy is looking up at the camera, hands wrapped around the controller of a game system. There’s unheard words passing his semi-parted lips, which are set in a heavy pout. It’s dark outside, but there’s plenty of lights on the inside of the room.

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**His name’s Sanghyuk.**

**He stayed.**

**If you ask me how, I have no idea. He was near dead when I found him; after I brought him back to better health, he began to show signs of disappearing. But he never did.**

 

The situation mystifies Youngbin. How could one star have vanished, blinked out of existence in a matter of moments, while another thrived and survived past the point of no return?

Hopelessly, he looks at Juho. The star’s hair is tousled, messy and dark against the pale skin of his face. Youngbin finds himself enamored.

 

**KYB:**

**So you have no idea how he survived**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Right**

 

**KYB:**

**Does Sanghyuk?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**He doesn’t like to talk about it, especially over the phone**

**How far are you from the city?**

 

Youngbin sucks in a sharp breath.

 

**KYB:**

**Two hours**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Should we come visit you? The stress of travel might make disappearing more likely**

 

**KYB:**

**um**

**okay**

**yeah, sure**

**here**

**[LINK]**

**Meet me here tomorrow, maybe? If you’re free.**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Buying train tickets right now. Sanghyuk’s excited uwu**

 

**KYB:**

**this is a serious matter, hwiyoung**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**My apologies, *** _**ù** _ **w** _**ú** _ **.**

 

**KYB:**

**Thank you, let’s keep this professional.**

 

Youngbin smiles, feeling at ease as he sets his phone down. He trusts the other far too easily, but he knows he should. Something deep inside of himself urges him to give in, to allow the other to come and visit.

His hands tighten around Juho, eliciting a soft grumble from the other as his own hands clutch and pull up the blankets, burying his face in them.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Youngbin promises, hollow voice resounding through the silent room.

Groggily, Juho nods, only slightly awakened by the other’s voice. “Love you...”

Hesitantly, Youngbin buries his face into Juho’s neck, sighing slowly. “I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

 

 **JUNE 1** **6** **TH, 2018-**

_Hwiyoung and Sanghyuk are coming down from the city soon to visit Juho and I. I can’t keep my hands from shaking, I’m so nervous._

~~_I want to keep Juho safe. I want to protect him, keep him here with me. I can’t imagine being without him at this point; it’s only been a matter of days. How could I end up like this?_ ~~ _I’m so weak. I’m so weak. I’m so weak. I’m so weak. I’m so weak. I’m so weak. This hurts so much, how could this have happened? Fuck love. Fuck love. He’s gone. He’s gone and it’s all my fault I fucking hate myself so much I just want to see him again ._

 

 

_*_

 

 

“Come on, we have to go,” Youngbin urges, reaching forward to grab Juho’s hand. His grip is gentle, and Juho happily obliges, practically skipping to the other’s side as they begin walking.

They’d opted to leave the car at home that day, choosing to walk the short distance to the cafe they were to meet Hwiyoung and Sanghyuk at. It was a hot day, the average being in the high eighties.

A warm breeze crosses over Juho, and he shivers as he grins. “It’s so nice here, Youngbin.”

Youngbin loves the way his name crosses the other’s lips so easily. The gravel turns under his shoes as he walks, and his fingers intertwine tighter against Juho’s. “Isn’t it?”

The trees hum in agreement, the leaves swaying in the wind with content. The sky churns a sea of puffy white clouds, a promising dark blue lacing through them to show the true intentions of the day. The sun would beat through the protective layer that concealed it soon, once the temperature rose just a bit more, the haze would fade.

They near the end of the winding dirt road and carefully Youngbin checks the upcoming street for traffic before racing across it with Juho in tow. He brings them to the sidewalk that borders the town and falls back in step beside his star, smiling at the other’s wide eyes.

“You’re fast,” he mumbles, amazement clear in his tone. Youngbin pouts, finding the way every little thing Juho saw amazed him endearing.

A car passes them, windows down and music blaring loudly through them. Their license plate is from a different province, confirming the distant, uninterested suspicion Youngbin has that they’re tourists. “Not really, I’m average.”

“You are not!” Juho argues, breaking his hand away so he can wrap it around Youngbin’s arm, holding onto him to rest his head on his shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

“As are you,” Youngbin coos, watching the way the other’s eyes light up and his cheeks grow redder with the seconds.

They take a turn into the town, and Juho’s jaw drops when he sees a dog walking alongside its owner, trotting with a spark in its eyes as it whips its head around excitedly. “Wow...”

“Hm?”

“It’s so cute...”

Youngbin laughs. “You think so?”

Incredulously, Juho stares at Youngbin. “How could I not think so? It’s amazing...”

The area around them brightens as the sun drifts lazily through the cloud overhang, the grass and trees lightening as the shadows shift away from them, downwards towards the ground. They dance like ghosts, seeming to hover just above the ground as they dip in and out of each other. Though the scene is peaceful, Youngbin can’t help but feel unsettled.

“The cafe’s close,” he shakes off the feeling, shifting his arm into a more comfortable position. He’s thrilled when Juho just positions his own arms around it again.

The building looms ahead of them, the windows wide and open above the thousands of flowers that grow in the small garden outside. The boxes underneath them house the plants as well, and they’re tended to happily by one of the workers Youngbin had come to be quite familiar with. Each step takes him and Juho closer and closer to what he hopes will be a lifetime together, the freedom of Juho from the constellations that still hold him to the saltwater beneath, that Youngbin has grown to cherish more than anything else.

“Good morning!” Youngbin calls, grabbing the attention of the barista with dark hair and darker eyes, his gaze unrevealing of his true feelings. His smile betrayed them, though, showing his happiness at seeing one of his favorite regulars.

“I haven’t seen you in forever, Youngbin!” He calls back, standing up to greet the two approaching him. “Who’s your friend?”

Juho detects a hint of jealousy on his tone. Nervously, he breaks contact, eyes dropping to the pink and yellow flowers that seem to move in rhythm with the boy ahead of them.

“His name’s Juho, he’s a friend.”

Youngbin reaches down, snaking his hand around Juho’s again. He gives a small squeeze, letting the other know that it was alright. “This is Taeyang.”

“Nice to meet you, Juho,” Taeyang sticks his hand out. Juho fumbles to escape Youngbin’s grip, reaching out to shake Taeyang’s hand. It’s soft, like his skin is made of the petals that surround him. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Youngbin jumps in before Juho can respond. “He’s new to the area.”

“Oh! Well, I hope you enjoy it here,” Taeyang seems genuine enough when he says it, and Juho thanks him. After a few more moments, Youngbin takes Juho inside.

He can spot Sanghyuk instantly.

Juho can, as well. There was no way he knew what they were doing in the cafe, or who they were supposed to be meeting, but something snares his attention and forces him to stare headlong at Sanghyuk. The same must happen for the other, whose head whips towards the other star, eyes wide with curiosity.

Hwiyoung looks up from his phone, following Sanghyuk’s gaze to Juho. Then he shifts it to Youngbin, smiling faintly. Youngbin takes that as the initiative to go to them, and finds his pulse racing in his chest as he takes a seat across from Hwiyoung. Juho stays eerily silent, finding comfort in being pressed against Youngbin’s side.

“Hwiyoung?”

“Youngkyun,” the boy corrects, long brown hair tied up neatly atop his head. Some strands refuse to be tame, though, and hang down framing his face. He’s definitely much younger than Youngbin, possibly even younger than Taeyang. He must have _just_ graduated high school. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same to you,” Youngbin nods, “I’m Youngbin, this is Juho.”

He shakes their hands. Sanghyuk introduces himself once it’s his turn, lips turned up in the corners. The expression is far from resembling a smile, seemingly analyzing as he watches Youngbin. He appears on edge, especially so when Juho or Youngbin look at Youngkyun for a prolonged time.

Juho shifts uncomfortably, unsure of the situation at hand. Sanghyuk’s eyes judge him analytically, but soften after a moment. They harden when they turn back to Youngbin, though.

“Sanghyuk is like you, Juho,” Youngkyun takes up the awkward role of explaining everything, and Juho’s eyebrows lift in disbelief.

“Really?”

Sanghyuk can’t help himself, dropping the facade he holds up so strongly to smile at Juho. “Really,” he confirms, nodding faintly. Youngbin feels distant from Juho for a brief moment when the star shifts away from him, finding the confidence to move into his own space. He’s relieved, though, that he was becoming more comfortable around the others. “I fell two years ago.”

“Two years!?”

Sanghyuk laughs, nodding as he begins to respond. “Youngkyun found me alone in the woods, and he’s been pretty much taking care of me since then.”

“More like you’ve been a nuisance to me since then,” Youngkyun shoots back, earning a small nose scrunch from his counterpart.

Youngbin notices that even the way Sanghyuk speaks is more human than how Juho does. His speech is laid back, easygoing while Juho’s is somehow reserved, unsure of if he’s saying the right things. Sanghyuk is loose while Juho is tense, one of the stark differences between the two.

“So,” Sanghyuk starts, “your tattoo.”

“My what?”

“Your tattoo,” Sanghyuk cocks his head to the side, “the one on your back.”

Youngbin becomes immersed in the other’s words, eyes sharp as they travel to the soft black lines that trace over the bottom of Juho’s neck, just barely visible underneath the collar of his shirt. “It’s like your lifeline, the smaller it is, the longer you have.”

Youngkyun catches the way Youngbin sucks in a breath through his teeth silently. Sanghyuk does as well; his shoulders twitching as his hands fold together tightly. Juho, oblivious to the large, spiraling tattoo that traces his spine, looks around the table with interest. “Each star has one?”

The younger brunette forces a pained smile, nodding. Sanghyuk’s exterior walls build back up, his hopes at having somebody like him around dying as he realized why Youngbin looked so crushed.

“How do you know?” Youngbin questions meekly, watching the table as he can’t bring himself to look at the group. His fingers tremble and he hides them under his thighs, biting his lip roughly.

“It’s an instinct thing,” Sanghyuk’s back to being analytical, sharp voice cutting through the tense air like a knife, “you know? It’s your story, and the longer you’re around the more it grows.”

“And when is it… When’s the end?” Youngbin closes his eyes, glad that Juho’s more interested with Sanghyuk than he is him.

Sanghyuk shakes his head. “When it reaches the heart.”

A soft nod is all Youngbin can muster, and he feels Youngkyun’s knee knock against his from under the table. It’s kind, reminding Youngbin that he isn’t alone. He pulls his leg away, not wanting to be pitied when Juho was the one who should be being consoled. The last time he’d seen the tattoo, it was wrapping around Juho’s shoulders. It was already too close for comfort, and Youngbin hadn’t seen how close it had come in the past five days.

The conversation shifts slowly, but Youngbin can’t bring himself to join in unless prompted to from another member of the group. At one point they end up talking about the city, and Juho’s interest grows with each detail Youngkyun and Sanghyuk give to him.

Youngbin watches as an all too familiar blonde and his boyfriend step through the door, oblivious to the watchful eyes of Youngbin that hover over them absently.

Jaeyoon laughs loudly at something Inseong whispers to him, and he throws an arm around the other’s shoulders, murmuring something back into his ear. He smirks at the blush that crosses the other’s face. Youngbin tears his gaze away, knowing that seeing Inseong will just hurt him further.

 

* * *

 

 

“Today was fun,” Juho hums, sitting across from Youngbin at the kitchen table as he absently presses his lips to one of the popsicles that he’d bought earlier in the week. It was just a stick at this point, but he hadn’t wanted to leave the table to throw it away. He was less talkative than before, far more nervous than he had been.

Youngbin can see right through his act, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms. “How big is the tattoo?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Juho’s gaze breaks away from Youngbin’s for a flash of a second before his breath hitches.

He hates that he’s being lied to. Youngbin taps his fingers against his bicep angrily, watching Juho sternly. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Juho.”

The darker haired boy shrugs, standing up to walk to the trashcan across the room from him. “I’m not lying to you.”

Without a second thought, Youngbin pushes himself to standing and grabs Juho by the arm, turning him around swiftly. His movements were quick, but never rough, never anything that could hurt Juho. They do startle him, though, and his eyes widen as his fingers release their grip on the stick he’d been holding.

Youngbin’s other hand travels to the bottom of Juho’s shirt. The star holds his head up, tears brimming in his eyes as the brunette tugs up the white tee to reveal his chest.

The black lines of the tattoo were tracing Juho’s collarbone, tendrils like snakes drawing closer and closer with each day towards the other’s unguarded heart.

“Did you know?”

Youngbin drops his shirt, looking pleadingly to Juho. “ _Please_ tell me you didn’t know that it would kill you.”

Juho doesn’t answer, keeping his eyes on the ceiling as they continue to fill with tears. Youngbin takes a step back when one falls, kissing the other’s cheek sweetly before clinging helplessly to his chin, dropping to the floor a moment later. With trembling lips, Juho whispers out a quiet, “I can’t.”

All Youngbin can do is drag Juho into his grip, feeling the other’s knees give out as his sobs take over his body. Youngbin falls with him, pulling the star into his lap so he can bear the weight of their fall on his knees solely.

The sky darkens outside, black slicing through the easy colors of the sunset like ink. The pinks and the oranges of the bright, happy sky fade until they’re replaced by nothingness, empty space that held the occasional twinkling of something too far to ever be reached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst angst angst angst I am : sorry for this entire fic  
> But hi! I love you im sorry  
> ANYWAY lets get happy for a moment; yo jaeyoon held my hands at hitouch and like. curled his fingertips over mine and just held them so lovingly, like what the fuck. dawon was all smiley uwuwuwuwu im so in love with them. their hands are fucking huge, btw, and so soft :( i miss them  
> -Elise


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: major character death  
> trigger warning: extreme angst  
> trigger warning: i don't cry but i cried writing this shit

**JUNE 17TH, 2018-**

_There’s no point in this journal. I don’t want to write in it anymore._

_This is my last entry._

  


  


_*_

  


 

Youngbin finds solace in Juho’s arms.

At three in the morning, when he can barely keep his eyes open but his mind races far too fast for him to fall asleep, Youngbin focuses on the warmth in the other’s skin. Juho hadn’t slept much either, awoken by seemingly the smallest sounds in the room. An owl disrupts his sleep the most, as each time its call fills the void of the night outside his eyes flutter open. Youngbin would reach over him and shut the window, but he would rather not wake the other up.

The last time he’d been awake was about an hour ago. Youngbin had left the bedroom to grab some water, and when he’d come back he’d found Juho trembling underneath the blankets, silent tears trailing down his face as he scrunched his eyes closed. He was muttering something under his breath, something Youngbin was thankful he couldn’t hear. It was rushed and repeated, and only stopped when Juho had his arms locked tightly around Youngbin, forcing him to stay in the bed.

_“I was scared you left me...”_

Youngbin’s fingers trail down the other’s still arm listlessly as he listens to his soft breaths. “I would never leave you,” he whispers to the empty room, feeling the other’s hands grip his shirt a bit tighter. “Never.”

Youngbin doesn’t want to think about the tattoo, but it’s where his mind strays around four in the morning. All he can worry about is the way that the black ink continues to course through Juho’s skin, its set destination being locked on the star’s heart. There’s no way to avoid the final outcome, Youngbin was positive. Sanghyuk had been painfully assuring of the fact that there was no way to stop or even delay the path of the tattoo.

What would become of them?

Juho would fade, which Youngbin dares not to imagine. He doesn’t want to see the other disappear, not now, not ever. He wishes there was something he could do, but knowing that this was to be their cruel, unruly faith, was absolutely crushing. His heart wrenches at the thought of losing Juho.

_Why did I get attached?_

Youngbin had _promised_ himself he wouldn’t. He swore he would only protect Juho, that nothing more would come of it, but he’d failed himself. He knew something like this would happen, had a feeling that there would be something more cruel than anything he could believe lying in wait for them, but he ignored it.

“Youngbin?”

The brunette turns, looking over his shoulder. There’s a grimace on Juho’s face, and Youngbin finally realizes that the other’s attempting to tear his arm away from the other. Youngbin widens his eyes, feeling how tight his grip is on the other’s wrist. “Shit.” Youngbin lets go of the other, seeing a small speck of blood on the other’s skin as he rips his arm away. Juho cradles it against his chest, biting his lip.

“Why are you still up?”

Youngbin would turn the question around and ask Juho that himself, but he had been the one to wake him up. That was his fault. “I can’t sleep.”

Simply, Juho nods, curling against Youngbin’s side. The brunette hesitates before wrapping an arm around the other, hand resting over his waist. “I’m sorry.”

His dark hair is messy from the tossing and turning he’d been caught in during the night, framing his face with unruly, tangled strands. Youngbin sighs, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault.”

Juho’s eyes glimmer. He closes them, trying to steady his breathing. “I’m hurting you by being here,” he murmurs, burying his face into the other’s shirt.

“You’re not,” Youngbin lies. Juho can tell, laughing humorlessly against him.

“I should leave.”

Silence fills the space between them. Though they’re locked in each other’s embraces, they’re farther apart than they’ve ever been. Youngbin tries to bring them back, hands tracing aimlessly up and down Juho’s spine.

“Please don’t.”

Juho shrugs, turning away. He sits up, fingers gripping the sheets. His eyes dart around the room nervously, taking in every book and piece of scattered paper that lays around the messy floor. “I need to,” he whispers, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to still himself, “I need to go.”

Youngbin follows him up, throwing the blanket off of his own lap. It lands over Juho’s, covering his hands. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“We’re leaving together,” Youngbin starts, slipping off of the bed. He crouches down and unplugs his phone, watching the screen light up. A picture of a glistening ocean stares up at him, underneath a timestamp that reads four thirty. “I’m not letting you go, so you’re stuck with me.”

The wind whistles outside, and when Youngbin’s phone display turns itself off, the room is shrouded in darkness. Anxiety and fear melt comfortably into the silence that spreads out between the two in the room.

No answer comes to Youngbin’s statement. He turns to watch Juho slide out of the bed and begin to leave the room, and he quickly follows after him, stumbling as he stands all too quickly. He storms out of the room after Juho, reaching forward to grab his wrist. Juho yanks it away, huffing as he starts towards the front door. “Hey-!”

Juho spins on his heel, his expression and motions aggressive though his eyes betray the facade, showing off the fear he must be hiding. “-I’m _dying_ , Youngbin!”

The brunette takes a step back, floored by the other’s sudden outburst. He bites his lip, swallowing thickly. There was no answer that could comfort Juho.

“I’m dying,” he repeats, voice lower than before. Youngbin can’t bring himself to move, just to stare into the empty abyss that harbors itself deep in Juho’s gaze. “You shouldn’t have to see it happen.”

Fear courses through Youngbin’s blood. “No,” he shakes his head, bringing his gaze to the floor. His eyes fill with tears. “God...”

Juho reaches forward, a comforting hand stroking the brunette’s cheek. Youngbin laughs through the tears that begin to fall, bringing his hands up to hide behind. “Why am _I_ the one who’s crying?” He sniffles, shoulders trembling as his walls begin to break, one by one. “I’m not even...” He sobs, feeling the floor kiss his knees when he collapses.

“ _You’re_ the one who’s supposed to be crying!”

Juho sighs, following Youngbin to the floor. He keeps his hands on the other’s cheeks, thumbs wiping away tears faster than they can fall. “I’m numb to it,” he mumbles, drawing himself closer to Youngbin. “I knew from the start that it would come to this.”

Youngbin sobs. Juho continues.

“I should have never come here. Meeting you was a mistake, and I should have left when I had the chance. Now I’m just hurting you,” a rueful smile crosses Juho’s face. Youngbin brings his hands away slowly, watching the other sadly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Youngbin.”

Youngbin watches Juho stand up, watches him grab a blue sweater that hangs dejectedly over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, and watches him leave through the front door, which he leaves open behind him. Though it should be read as a silent invitation, a silent call of ‘follow me’, Youngbin stays rooted to the floor.

Juho disappears into the darkness, the only reminder that he’s still close being the sound of his footsteps on the gravel become quieter and quieter as he leaves Youngbin behind.

 

“Juho?”

Youngbin shivers as he wanders down his driveway, calling out for the other again and again, his phone being the only light to cut through the darkness. “Juho!”

Nothing responds to him. Even the wind has seemed to still itself, holding its breath as Youngbin’s story approaches its final crescendo. The clouds swirl angrily overhead, and Youngbin panics when he feels a drop of rain splash down onto his neck.

“Juho!”

Youngbin stumbles over an overturned rock, cussing as he catches himself against one of the trees bordering the road. “Fuck!”

He couldn’t have gone far. It was only five minutes, where could he be?

Youngbin whips his head around, stress and anxiety pulsing through him until his fingers shake and his flashlight is caused to flicker over each stone in the road as he can’t calm his trembling. “Please… Please come back,” he whispers, quickening his pace as he approaches the intersection at the end of his road. “Please, Juho, _please_...”

A week had passed. In one week alone, Youngbin had fallen in love. Youngbin had felt the worst pain in his entire life, unimaginable pain that haunts him as he runs through the night, the rain beginning to come down around him. It’s soft at first, as Juho had been, but soon begins to pour and wreak havoc on the ground, the wind aiding its assault on the world below. Youngbin shouts, begs for Juho, _screams_ for him.

But Juho doesn’t come.

The ocean hollers back at Youngbin, waves smashing and attacking the shore as they hungrily attempt to crawl up the sand, consuming what it can before its yanked viciously back by the pull of the forces beyond itself. Youngbin doesn’t know what points him in the direction of it, but he finds himself racing towards the beach.

He runs through the deserted streets, not bothering to cross fully. The yellow line under his feet marks a trail that he’ll follow back home, either with or without Juho. He hopes, _prays_ that it’ll be with him.

Warning signs wrap themselves haphazardly around the gate before the beach. The ocean is deafening, roaring in Youngbin’s ears to accompany his adrenaline as he loops his fingers around the fence.

_CLOSED, NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY._

_NO ENTRANCE PERMITTED._

Youngbin lifts himself onto the fence, scales it until he’s at the top of the wet gate. He disregards the warning completely, _especially_ when he sees a familiar blue hoodie curled up on the far side of the beach.

The rain makes the fence slippery, and Youngbin’s fingers unfurl themselves from around the steel when it bucks underneath him. He falls, landing on his knees on the rough pavement.

There’s blood, he can smell it, but he doesn’t care.

Youngbin struggles to his feet, gasping at the pain that blossoms in his right leg. He could move it, though, that’s all that mattered.

The clattering of the gate must have grabbed Juho’s attention, as the star watches Youngbin stagger towards him through the sand. He doesn’t run, but he doesn’t move to aid the other, either.

Youngbin stops. They watch each other through the downpour, the starving sea and the overpowering storm being the only sound between them.

There’s something about Juho. Something about the way his hair hangs down over his eyes, frames his pale face in the rain. Something about how his lips part under the impression of unsaid words, how his eyes appear desperate and alluring even though Youngbin can barely see them through the darkness. Juho shivers when the wind hits him, the spray of the ocean knocking into him from behind. He’s nearly sent reeling, but he catches himself a moment before he falls. “Youngbin...”

“Don’t talk,” Youngbin starts, storming forwards, “shut the fuck up. I’m talking.” He reaches forward, snatching Juho’s hands. He brings them up to his mouth, blowing on them in an attempt to warm him. “Shut the fuck up.”

Juho obliges, biting his lip. Youngbin huffs, giving up on blowing on the other’s hands. Instead, he pins them between his own, holding them against his chest. “You fucking scared me. _Never_ do that to me again, understand?”

There would be no time for an again. This was it.

“Second of all, what the fuck were you thinking!? Running off- when a storm is coming- what if you’d gotten lost? Hurt? How would I have found you!?”

Juho smiles, letting his head drop at the other’s worried scolding. His chin touches his chest as he listens to Youngbin’s incessant rambling.

The air between them changes. Youngbin takes a deep breath to compose himself, feeling that something’s wrong with the way Juho sways gently from side to side, how his skin seems to shimmer though there’s no light on them.

“There’s so much I want to show you,” Youngbin whispers, words bittersweet as they roll off of his tongue like satin, “but I don’t have enough time.”

Juho raises his head to watch him, dumbfounded at the other’s sudden gentle behavior. “Youngbin...”

“No, hold on, let me finish,” Youngbin closes his eyes, trying to form the rest of his words in his head. If Juho was to fade, right here, right now, he needed to tell him these things. “I love you. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more; if I’d known how shortly you’d be here, I would have made every day special. I wouldn’t have yelled so much,” he grimaces, “I wouldn’t have cried, seemed scared. I want to be strong for you.”

Juho’s shoulders bounce. He pulls a hand away from Youngbin, bringing it slowly to his eyes. “It’s okay to be scared.” Youngbin lets go of Juho so he can pull him closer, allowing the star to rest his head on his shoulder. “I know you are.”

The walls between them, that had been so strong before, whittled down by time, finally collapse fully. They’re ashes, dust and particles that float through the air when Juho breaks down, burying his face into Youngbin’s shirt. Youngbin wraps his arms around his waist, supporting Juho when his knees buckle and he drops.

He holds him up, cares for him as he feels he should have for the past week. “I’m sorry.”

Juho grips him tightly, shaking his head as he cries. He tries to say something, but his voice is muffled by Youngbin’s hoodie and he chokes on his own tears.

When Youngbin finally looks back to Juho, his heart stops.

He can see his own shirt through the other’s hand.

It’s faint, but it’s as if the other is made of a thick, colorful smoke, that slowly trickles away and exposes what it had hidden for so long.

There was no way that Youngbin would let Juho see himself fade.

“Come here,” Youngbin whispers, gently raising the other’s head from against his chest. There’s still tears in his eyes, and Youngbin knows he only has a short amount of time left. Every second counts down to an inevitable disappearance, a loss of color and light in the same place Juho had been.

Carefully, Youngbin presses his lips against Juho’s, bringing his hands to the other’s cheeks. He wipes away the tears that stream down the ebony haired star’s face with his fingertips, feeling odd at how calm he was during the situation.

Hesitantly, Juho kisses him back, hands resting on Youngbin’s chest to support himself.

Youngbin pulls away just enough so that he can press his forehead against the other’s. “Is this alright?” He hums, eyebrows drawing down when he sees the waves behind the other’s eyes.

Juho nods, closing his eyes as he moves forward again, lips pressed softly against Youngbin’s.

It’s cruel, how well they fit together. Youngbin hates that Juho’s a perfect match for him; how his hands fit so perfectly into his, how his lips were perfect against his.

Everything was perfect, and everything was fading.

Youngbin’s hand slips down to grab onto Juho’s. Their fingers wrestle together for a moment as they attempt to fold against each other.

Youngbin’s hand presses tightly against Juho’s, but after a moment of the peaceful contact, his fingers fall through empty space. It grabs Juho’s attention violently, and he immediately breaks contact to look at their hands.

“Fuck,” he gasps, eyes widening. Tears that had been contained before begin to fall again, and he stares in horror at the sight of the sand waiting idly behind his hand. “Youngbin,” he tries to tell the other, but Youngbin refuses to look, knowing it’s useless to worry.

There was nothing they could do.

“Look at me,” Youngbin instructs, and Juho does, his chest rising and falling unevenly as his panic sets in. “Don’t look at it, just look at me.”

Juho nods, and Youngbin places another soft kiss against his lips. He would deepen it, but fear of what had happened with their hands makes him pull away. “You’re alright, Juho.”

“I’m scared,” he sobs, reaching forward to grab Youngbin.

His touch doesn’t meet Youngbin. His hands do, but they don’t _feel_ anything. They don’t _move_ anything. It’s as if Juho touches a statue, one that can’t sense his touch. “Youngbin? Oh, fuck, Youngbin!” He gasps, trying to grab one of the strings that hangs from Youngbin’s hood. It refuses to move under the ghost touch.

“Youngbin,” Juho sobs, fear filling every word that falls from his trembling lips, “please don’t let me go.”

“I won’t,” he lies, trying to assure the other in the final moments they have. Youngbin reaches forward, watches his hand drift through Juho’s arm, and stops trying. “I love you,” he whispers, repeating the phrase as he tries to keep himself from breaking.

He had to be strong, had to be tough for the other. Juho tries again to grab Youngbin’s hands, watching as his fingers disappear through the other’s skin. Every time Juho touches Youngbin, he can only feel a cold sensation where the other’s warm, soft hand should be.

“Youngbin,” Juho shakes his head, soaked hair flying from side to side, “Youngbin I can’t do this.”

The wind kicks up the sand around them, and the ocean seizes what it can as the waves continue to ascend the shore, coming closer with each swell to where the two stand.

“I’m sorry,” the brunette responds, trying to focus on the other.

“Youngbin _please_ don’t let me go!” Juho screams, sobs racking his body as he collapses to his knees, shaking and screaming with each word he struggles to get out through his sobs. “Please, Youngbin!”

His voice is lost to the sound of the sea and the howling of the wind.

Youngbin falls in front of him, meeting his gaze for one final time.

“Youngbin,” Juho whispers, gasping for breath through his tears, “I love you.”

To the empty space in front of him, Youngbin responds.

“I love you, too, Juho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i just want to apologize for this, it's a really sad ending but this is the end.  
> there are two epilogues though! but both are just as equally sad as this was  
> i'm sorry i didn't update for so long, a lot has been happening in my life and it's just been a lot to deal with. i plan on working hard on swim and posting a few new inda fics soon. and one rowoon/dawon fic which is super cute! i love it :(  
> thank you so much for reading. you mean the world to me, and i hope you're always happy. and if you're ever feeling down, please know that i love you so much and that i'm always wishing for the best for you. you mean so much to me, never forget that. you matter to me! you're important to me. i love you so much.
> 
> my cc, you can yell at me here: https://curiouscat.me/blossomfic  
> my twt, we can yell together here: https://twitter.com/blossomfic


	8. EPILOGUE : Chanhee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw ; major character death + angst
> 
> enter: rowoon and chani

Seokwoo kicks his door open, cradling the injured boy that he’d found in the middle of the fields near his home in his arms tightly. He’d been watching the stars with the new telescope he’d bought for his twentieth birthday, and had luckily seen where the boy had fallen when it lit up in the lens he was staring through. It had blinded him at first, the horrible, whistling light that fell through the sky to the ground, but after a moment he’d torn himself away and watched the landing with his own eyes.

The boy’s breathing is labored, and each time Seokwoo’s arm brushes against the large gash on his bare side he grimaces. “I’m sorry,” Seokwoo apologizes quickly, though the boy had his eyes closed and clearly wasn’t conscious.

He sets the boy down on the couch and throws a blanket over his lap before quickly running to the bathroom to grab a rag. Then, he hurries to the kitchen to fill a pot with warm water, debating on whether or not to put soap into the steaming pot. He decides not to, walking slowly back to the couch as to avoid spilling any of the water.

Outside, the sky is bright with glimmering stars and an eagerly watchful moon. Seokwoo flicks on the living room lights, watching the orange glow on the other’s skin from the lamp dance under the shadow Seokwoo casts onto him.

Seokwoo spends the next hour cleaning the boy’s wounds, gently scrubbing the dirt and debris from his skin. There’s soft, black lines that trace the column of the stranger’s neck, which wrap softly around it like a necklace. Seokwoo wonders if it’s a tattoo, and if so, why it leaves him with such an odd feeling of anxiety deep in his chest.

It’s two in the morning when Seokwoo finally allows himself to stop and take a step back. It hadn’t hit him before that this had been somebody who had fallen from the sky; it had just been somebody who needed his help.

He’d fallen from the fucking sky.

Seokwoo’s eyes widen slowly. Was he an alien? And if so, was he set on the destruction of humanity? Every movie he’d seen portrayed aliens as horrific, slimy creatures with piercingly black eyes- the stranger definitely wasn’t that.

Soft, tangled brown hair dances in the breeze of the open window, and he trembles with each breath he takes. Seokwoo pities him, as if he’s an alien, he’s lousy at being scary as they should be.

The pot of water has run cold by now, and Seokwoo sets the towel he’d been using on the other into it. He carries it back to the kitchen, dropping it unceremoniously into the sink. It clatters loudly against the porcelain, and water splashes up and over the edges of the sink. It nearly dribbles over the edge, but Seokwoo catches it and forces it back with his hands.

Drying them against his shirt, he stares at the world behind his front door, which is only separated from the inside of his home by a thin screen.

“I’m harboring an alien,” he whispers in disbelief, taking a look over his shoulder back at the couch. How was this possible? “He looks harmless enough,” Seokwoo mumbles to himself, finding that the sound of somebody’s voice in the tense silence relaxes him. “Kind of a lame alien...”

When he returns to the couch, albeit slowly, the boy is sitting up groggily, a hand pressed against his head. Seokwoo would be a liar if he said he wasn’t scared, but he tries to put on a smile to hide his true feelings. _Aliens can smell fear_ , he warns himself, only knowing what he’d seen from movies about the intergalactic creatures. _No matter how small, they’re deadly._

“Where...” The boy looks around, yawning. His eyes finally settle on Seokwoo and he gasps, throwing himself back against the couch. He grabs the blanket, pulling it up defensively in front of himself. “Who are you!?”

He’s cute, but Seokwoo won’t fall for his alien tricks. “Who are _you_?” Seokwoo flips the question, taking a step back in case the creature lunges at him and tries to eat his heart.

“I...”

The boy’s eyes fill with tears, and he shakes from what Seokwoo assumes to be fear, since that’s what swims restlessly through his eyes. Seokwoo feels bad suddenly, for being so cautious around somebody who looks so harmless, and quickly moves to kneel in front of him. If he lost his heart, he lost his heart. Whatever. “Hey, please don’t cry!” He tries, bringing his hands up quickly in an attempt to hold onto the other’s. The boy jumps at the sudden motion, closing his eyes as he winces.

When Seokwoo doesn’t touch him, he slowly opens an eye, and a tear falls. He quickly wipes it away, glaring at the brunette in front of him. “I don’t _know_ who I am. You’re turn,” his voice is deep, and definitely not what Seokwoo expected from somebody so small.

“Okay, well, that sucks,” Seokwoo comments, smiling softly. “I’m Seokwoo. You looked like you needed help, I promise I don’t want to hurt you.”

He lifts his little finger towards the other with the last sentence he says, and at the other’s confused expression, explains quickly. “I promise,” he motions to it, and carefully presses his finger against the boy’s. Cautiously, the boy lifts his own, and Seokwoo wraps his around it. “Promise, alright? You’re hurt, I just want to help.”

The boy nods, looking around. It seems as if he just begins to take in his surroundings, eyes widening under the impression of every new thing he saw. He cocks his head to the side at the sight of a picture hanging on the wall near the couch, and Seokwoo stands up to grab it off of the wall. “This?” He wonders aloud, wondering what had grabbed the other’s attention so quickly.

Gently, Seokwoo unhooks it from the wall and presses it into the stranger’s hands, allowing him to take a closer look. “That’s me,” he murmurs, carefully sitting down on the couch next to him. The boy watches, guarded, defensive eyes taking in each of Seokwoo’s movements.

Determining him to not be a threat, he continues to look at the picture. Seokwoo explains further. “The girl with me is one of my old friends,” a smile crosses his features at the memory, the day they’d spent at the beach together when she’d pulled out her phone and taken the picture. “We don’t talk much anymore, but it’s a nice memory.”

The picture is given back to Seokwoo, and hung back on the wall.

An awkward silence fills the room, and Seokwoo clears his throat, trying to think of something to occupy the both of them. “Are you hungry?” He tries, earning a sharp shake of the head from the other. “No? Okay… Tired?”

Another shake, and Seokwoo sighs. “Are you an alien?”

“A what?”

Clearly, the boy wasn’t caught up with the plethora of media on Earth. “An alien,” Seokwoo explains, standing in front of the couch, “like, hellbent on destroying the Earth? Ready to kill humankind?”

Exasperation shows through the other’s movements. He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow that’s unimpressed in nature. “No?”

“Oh, cool.” Seokwoo’s anxiety fades, and he looks around the room. “Great. Fantastic, perfect.”

The boy smiles, turning to look at the window on the far side of the room. “You’re weird...”

“I’m not!” Seokwoo defends himself, causing the other to laugh. “Hey!”

Apologetically, the boy nods. “Right, you’re not. I’m sorry.” He tears his gaze away from the nightlife outside the window, letting it rest on Seokwoo again. Seokwoo notices the grime that rests on the other’s cheek almost instantly.

“Come on,” he extends a hand towards the other, waiting until the other mindfully takes it, standing slowly. Seokwoo’s thankful when he keeps the blanket over himself with his other hand. “I’m gonna run you a shower, okay?”

 

* * *

 

 

Seokwoo sits idly against the bathtub, facing the door as he scrolls through his Instagram feed. Behind him, the shower pushes out warm water against the boy he’d taken home.

“Is your hair wet?” Seokwoo questions, feeling a hand gently brush against his shoulder as the water is turned off for a moment. There’s a soft hum of affirmation, and Seokwoo turns slowly. The boy kneels in front of him, and Seokwoo reaches down and picks up the shampoo bottle next to him on the floor.

He quickly pours some of the pink gel into his fingers, lathering it through the other’s tangled hair expertly. Bubbles and suds make quick work of the tangles, loosening them just enough so Seokwoo can worm his fingers through them.

“Okay,” he turns, standing up to rinse his hands off in the sink across the room. The water turns back on behind him, and the other begins to wash the soap out of his hair.

Seokwoo stands at the sink, occupying himself by drawing in the fog on the mirror as he waits for the other to need him again. He’s tired, as the time ticks closer to four in the morning, and feels his eyes flutter shut as he yawns.

Forcing himself to stay awake, Seokwoo crosses his arms over his chest and digs his fingernails into his forearms. He squeezes just enough to sting, but nothing that will hurt too badly. He needed to stay cautious, still not completely trusting the boy who stood in the shower only five feet away.

“Seokwoo?”

“Hm?”

The brunette glances at the shower curtain, which peels back slightly so the… _Alien_ can poke his head around it. Though he denied being one, Seokwoo had a strong belief that he was, in fact, an alien. “I’m done.”

“Okay,” Seokwoo nods, walking back over to the shower. He grabs the conditioner on the floor, squeezes some into his hands, and gently works his fingers through the other’s hair yet again. At this point, few knots remain, and Seokwoo’s easily able to untangle the rest of them.

“All good?” He smiles, pulling his hands away. The other nods and ducks back behind the black curtain. Seokwoo sighs, looking around.

Exhaustion begins to curl around Seokwoo. He drops to the floor, sliding back against the bathroom door. Resting his eyes, he draws his knees up to his chest and sets his head atop them.

Soon after he begins to fall asleep, the shower turns off. It’s enough of a disturbance to awaken Seokwoo, who looks up to the curtain idly. “There’s a towel on the edge there,” he hums, gaze focused on the other’s hand, which slips around the curtain and loops around the blue towel that sits on the edge of the bathtub. “You got it.”

A moment later, the boy steps out of the shower with the towel wrapped tightly around him. He yawns, obviously sharing Seokwoo’s exhaustion.

Standing, Seokwoo gently pushes the other down onto the closed toilet lid and reaches over to grab a hairbrush from the sink counter, beginning to drag it through the other’s curls. The boy pouts, closes his eyes, and lets Seokwoo take care of him.

With each tug on the brush, the other’s head pulls with it, before flopping back dejectedly when Seokwoo manages to tear it through the few remaining snarls. “Sorry,” he mumbles, concentrating on the other’s brown hair intently.

It takes about five minutes to brush through fully, and when it’s done, Seokwoo turns around to grab a stack of neatly folded clothes from off of a stool in the corner of the room, which is usually hidden behind the open door. He pushes them into the other’s arms and turns around as he changes into them.

When he’s done, Seokwoo takes his hand and leads him back to the living room, humming as he walks. The other follows closely behind, a soft smile prominent on his lips. One of Seokwoo’s black shirts hangs off of his shoulder, exposing a large, slowly healing gash in his skin. Oddly, the wound seems fitting for him.

It’s as if he’s carved of stone, a depiction of a strong, willful god with stardust and constellations coursing through his veins and eyes. Though, his power must be weakened, if he were truly a god. His aura seemed to swallow the room whole, and Seokwoo didn’t want to see him so much as annoyed. The thought alone presented a bad feeling to him, an anxiety that set heavily in his heart and stomach.

“I can sleep here,” Seokwoo motions to the couch, and continues walking to his bedroom. The living room and his room are connected by a large doorway, though it lacks what should be a barrier between the two rooms. Instead, curtains hang from the doorway, and are currently pushed and tied to the side to expose each room to the other. “You can sleep in my room, alright?”

The other nods, and Seokwoo lets go of his hand when they finally stand next to his bed. The other slips onto it, and Seokwoo raises the blankets for him. “Do you want the light on?”

“I’m alright,” the boy mumbles, yawning. Seokwoo’s gaze softens, and he brings a hand down to brush through the other’s hair.

“Then, goodnight.”

After a moment of silence, the boy looks up to Seokwoo gently.

“Thank you, Seokwoo.”

He responds in a heartbeat, finding himself happy that the other appreciated his help. “It’s nothing.”

 

 

Over pancakes the next morning, Seokwoo brings up an interesting point. “Do you have a name?”

“A what?”

The boy blows on the piece of pancake on his fork, though it was only mildly warm and saturated heavily in syrup. Seokwoo rests his cheek in his palm, raising an eyebrow, watching the other with humor in his eyes. “You know, a name. Like, I call myself Seokwoo. That’s my name.”

“Oh!”

A bout of silence follows the boy’s exclamation, and he stuffs the pancake into his mouth. His cheeks puff out comically.

Clearly, he had nothing else to say.

“So...”

He raises an eyebrow at Seokwoo, who smiles nervously. The boy swallows carefully, spears another piece of the fluffy pastry, and points it at Seokwoo. “You should give me a name.”

Quickly, Seokwoo nods. “I’d love to!”

Saying no to the other wasn’t something Seokwoo planned to do. Not because he was cute, and reminded Seokwoo of the younger brother he never had, but because he was secretly terrified of the other.

“What about Chanhee?”

At the name, Chanhee looks up, eyes twinkling in the bright kitchen lights above them as he looks to Seokwoo. “I like that name!”

“Then, it’s yours!”

“Chanhee...” He tastes the word, grinning madly as it passes his lips. He giggles, looking bashfully down at the table. Seokwoo laughs into his hand at the other’s reaction, eliciting a curious glance from him.

“You’re so cute,” he compliments, and Chanhee flushes.

 

 

**CHANHEE**

_**it’s odd how it all happened, but I don’t want to deny that fate exists. it’s always been something i’ve believed in, no matter what happened. but, i’ll be honest, this seems too odd for me to want to blame fate.** _

_**his name is chanhee. he fell out of the sky, and i took him home to take care of him.** _

_**i’ll keep you updated, but nothing much has happened thus far. i’d like to say that he likes pancakes though. like, LOVES them. it’s cute. he’s like a kid, so full of excitement at everything that’s here. today he saw me turn on the tv for the first time, and played with the remote for an hour straight. he was even more shocked at the movie that turned on due to his incessant clicking.** _

 

Seokwoo glances up from his post at the brunette, who had fallen fast asleep across from him on the couch. He has the blankets pulled up to his chin, and his breaths come out light and soft, his eyelashes fluttering in his sleep.

After Seokwoo posts the forum, he sets his phone down on his chest, leaning back into the pillows to watch the movie Chanhee had turned on. A man in a red and blue suit shoots a web from between his fingers, and swings between the skyscrapers of a city flawlessly, not stumbling through he dangles hundreds of feet above the ground. Seokwoo had seen the movie before, when he was younger. It’s cute to him that Chanhee had been just as excited over the superhero movie as he had been as a teenager.

That being said, Chanhee _seemed_ like a teenager. Seokwoo wasn’t quite sure, but he couldn’t be over eighteen.

His phone dings, and when he picks it up he’s met with an assault of messages.

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**YOU HAVE ONE TOO???**

**I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE**

**OH MY GOD**

 

Seokwoo sits up slowly, suddenly feeling protective over Chanhee. Who was this, and why was he saying he had one as well? He must have been referring to Chanhee, but… It wasn’t possible that there were more than one, right?

 

**ROWOON:**

**Who are you**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Oh, I’m sorry! I just got excited, my name’s Hwiyoung!**

 

**ROWOON:**

**That’s an alias?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Definitely. So is Rowoon, right?**

 

**ROWOON:**

**Yes.**

**What do you mean, you “have one”?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

** <PICTURE ATTACHED>**

**This is Sanghyuk. He fell from the sky a few weeks ago.**

 

**ROWOON:**

**Can I have some proof you’re not fucking with me?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Anything you want, idk how I can give you proof but just tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.**

**I’d love to be able to talk about this with you**

**Does Chanhee have a tattoo too?**

 

It’s all Seokwoo needs to believe the other. His breath hitches as he turns to look at the black loops on the other’s throat, which seem to be getting longer with each passing day.

Today was the fourth day Chanhee had been with him. They planned on going to the grocery store that night, and to go to the cinema to see a movie after they brought home their groceries and put them away. Chanhee had brought up going to the theater after asking his hundredth question about Seokwoo’s television.

Each day Seokwoo had tried to show him something new. Yesterday was his electronics, like his laptop and phone, and the day before that, he’d taken him out to the library after donning the name Chanhee onto him.

 

**ROWOON:**

**Okay I believe you.**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**So he does? How big is it?**

**Sanghyuk’s is really small, he seems worried about it.**

 

**ROWOON:**

**Chanhee’s is big, I guess? I haven’t seen the whole thing, but it loops around his neck.**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Ah, Sanghyuk’s is around his fingers and back. It’s split into two, which I guess is kinda weird.**

**It’s cool though.**

**This is really sudden, but would you want to meet?**

 

Seokwoo’s mind travels to the darkest depths it can.

Chanhee, being forced into a government vehicle while Seokwoo was placed under arrest, forced to watch the truck take off towards a testing facility.

Seokwoo and Chanhee, kidnapped by whoever this _Hwiyoung_ person was.

 

**ROWOON:**

**How do I know you won’t hurt him?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**I mean, I won’t? I’m just out of high school, I’m just kind of freaked out by this whole situation and need someone to talk to. I’m pretty sure you’re older than me, and if this were to be dangerous for any of us it** _**should** _ **be me, considering I’m only nineteen.**

 

**ROWOON:**

**So, you won’t hurt Chanhee?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**No wtf. You won’t hurt Sanghyuk OR me?**

 

Seokwoo doesn’t notice that he hadn’t worried about himself as much as he’d worried for Chanhee.

 

**ROWOON:**

**Promise.**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

** <LOCATION ATTACHED>**

**How far are you from here?**

 

**ROWOON:**

**About an hour, is that where you want to meet?**

 

**HWIYOUNG:**

**Yeah.**

**It’s really** **populated, which I feel like will be safer for both of us.**

**Do you want to meet tonight?**

 

Hesitantly, Seokwoo leans over and shakes Chanhee awake. The boy rolls over to look at him, groaning underneath the blanket. “Yeah?”

“Can we postpone our plans for tonight? Something else came up.”

Chanhee shrugs. “What is it?”

“There’s someone else like you.”

 

 

Standing in the bright, haunting streetlights of the city, Chanhee pulls the hat Seokwoo had lent him lower on his face. The bustling crowds scare him, and he finds himself locked tightly in Seokwoo’s grip, comforted by the arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

The city is full of ghosts.

Haunted, solemn faces that slip by like spirits, deep and hollow eyes that appear lifeless as they flash above suits and ties, gray-scale clothes that mirror their owner’s expression flawlessly.

“I don’t like it here,” Chanhee whispers, and Seokwoo nods in agreement as he trudges on through the crowd. The restaurant wasn’t far; he could see the bright, romantic lighting from here.

It seemed like everything in the city was made for romance. Though, the people seemed like that was the farthest thing from their minds. Nonetheless, it was a restaurant, and the two tourists hadn’t eaten since earlier that afternoon. The clock ticks closer to nine, and with each step fear begins to crawl up Seokwoo’s spine.

What if this was a setup?

He leads Chanhee through the front door of the restaurant cautiously, and the moment he does Chanhee gasps, wincing as he brings a hand to his head. “Ah...”

“What- What’s wrong?” Seokwoo’s eyes widen as he grips the other’s shoulders, crouching in front of him. “Are you alright? Chanhee?”

He’s invisible. Chanhee’s head snaps up and he whips it around to face the wall, where a man with ebony hair has his head thrown against the table he sits at, clearly in pain as his fingers dig through his hair as he attempts to cover his ears completely with his palms.

“That’s them,” Chanhee whispers, stumbling where he stands. Thankfully, nobody had seen them or cared enough to pay attention to them, and nobody seemed to notice Chanhee’s breakdown.

“You’re sure?”

Chanhee nods, lips pulled tightly together as he muffles a whimper, his hand still pressed tightly against his head. “Seokwoo,” he whines, leaning against the other as he stands, “it hurts...”

“It’ll stop,” Seokwoo assures, bringing a hand to the other’s head to gently run through his hair, “I have painkillers in my bag. I’ll slip you one when we get to the table, okay? You’ll be alright.”

They begin to walk towards the table, and with each step the dark haired man pushes himself further against the table. A boy with styled, light brown hair is panicked in his motions as he rifles through his own bag, a hand reaching out to the other.

“Hwiyoung?”

The brunette looks up, startled at Seokwoo’s sudden presence. “Rowoon?”

“That’s me,” Seokwoo nods, looping an arm around Chanhee’s shoulders. “This is Chanhee.”

“You can call me Youngkyun. And, that’s Sanghyuk,” Youngkyun motions to the grovelling man, whose pained moans can be heard much more clearly by the two visitors at this point. He turns his attention back to his bag, digging through it feverishly.

Chanhee immediately sits next to him, a sudden purpose in his eyes as he reaches for the other’s hand. Seokwoo seems confused, still left standing at the edge of the table.

When Chanhee’s fingers brush the other’s skin, Sanghyuk throws himself back against the booth the group sits at, eyes widened and unfocused, glazed over as his lips part around unheard words. Chanhee tears his hand away, and at the loss of touch Sanghyuk seems to come back to life, sucking in a sharp breath as he falls forward, catching himself on the edge of the table.

“What...” Seokwoo watches the scene unfold, reaching out towards Chanhee in case he needs to pull him away from the other. “Sorry, what was that?”

Youngkyun finally pulls out a bottle of painkillers, wincing as he slides one into Sanghyuk’s hand. “He hit his head hard when he fell, he was nearly dead when I found him...” Chanhee leans forward, captivated by the story. Seokwoo sits down next to Youngkyun and across from Chanhee, finding himself hanging on every last word as well. “Ever since, he’s had horrible migraines. I don’t know what that was with Chanhee, though… Maybe some star thing?” His words come out as a jumbled mess of his thoughts, and seem to not be targeted at anyone listening, but rather himself. “Maybe...”

“A star thing?” Seokwoo inquires, turning to look at Youngkyun. “What?”

“You don’t know?”

Sanghyuk finally seems to notice the other two at the table with him, looking to Chanhee slowly. “You...”

“Sanghyuk and Chanhee are stars,” Youngkyun cocks his head to the side, folding his hands together on the table, “you didn’t know?” His fingers unwind from around each other, before wrapping together once again. He was visibly nervous.

“I had no idea,” Seokwoo starts, turning to Chanhee. “Did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Chanhee raises his hands defensively, staring back at Seokwoo, “promise.”

Sanghyuk watches Chanhee with curious eyes, and Chanhee returns the look as Seokwoo and Youngkyun begin to talk further about what the two across the table truly were. Chanhee hears the word _alien_ again. Seokwoo laughs.

“Your tattoo,” Sanghyuk mumbles, sitting up finally as he pops the painkiller into his mouth, grabbing the glass of water in front of himself at the table, “it’s so close to your heart.” He swallows the pill, grimacing as he takes a slow sip of water. Chanhee smiles, bringing a hand up to the lines tracing his neck.

“I know,” he mumbles, keeping his voice low, “but can we keep this quiet? Don’t let Seokwoo hear.”

Sanghyuk’s gaze softens. “You haven’t told him?”

“I have a bit of time.” Chanhee explains, smiling sadly. “My tattoo doesn’t grow too often, only maybe once every three days. If I had to guess, I have a month or so left here.”

Sorrow pierces Chanhee’s heart, and he laughs dejectedly as he shakes his head. “I don’t want to bother him much, you know?”

“I get it,” Sanghyuk nods, looking down, “but aren’t you scared?”

“I’ll be reclaimed.” Chanhee shrugs, crossing his arms. The conversation makes his skin crawl with nerves. “The universe isn’t done with me yet.”

“Right...”

 

 

“Chanhee,” Seokwoo breathes, hands tightening around the other’s still arms. “Chanhee _don’t_.”

The black lines that had once been so collected around the other’s neck have trailed down over the month he’d stayed with Seokwoo, and now circle his heart excitedly, ready to drag him forcefully away from Seokwoo.

Chanhee feels numb, watching as his skin glistens. He doesn’t want to look up to Seokwoo, whose sobs rack his body as his grip on the fading star tightens. “Chanhee _please_ , _please_ don’t leave me.”

Seokwoo’s hands pass through the other’s skin. He screams, throwing himself back on the floor before crawling back to the other, who kneels in the center of the living room. “ _Chanhee_!”

Finally, Chanhee looks up to Seokwoo.

He wants to bring his hands up and wipe away the other’s tears, to comfort him. “I’m not afraid,” he tries, but the statement only makes Seokwoo cry out louder.

“How!? Of course you are!”

“I’m not,” Chanhee assures, though his heart pounds with nerves as he finds himself unsure of what’s to come for him. He didn’t like the loneliness that he’d felt before. He liked being with Seokwoo, but he didn’t want to hurt the human further. He couldn’t tell him that; it would make things harder for the both of them. “I promise, I’m alright.”

Before, Chanhee had only felt darkness. Loneliness and the darkness wrapped around him like a cloak, until he’d felt the burning and fear of falling to Earth. Then, there was Seokwoo, the man who had become like family to Chanhee.

Now what?

Seokwoo reaches forward, watches his hands phase through Chanhee’s, and tries again. Again and again, he tries to get a grip on the other, but his fingers drift through him like he’s made of sand. “Chanhee...”

Tears stream down his face, and the sight is worse than everything Chanhee had felt before. He’d take the darkness over Seokwoo’s pain any day. “Please don’t be sad,” he begs, vision blurring as his own eyes fill with tears. “Please, if you cry I’ll cry...”

Seokwoo sobs into his hands, and Chanhee feels a soft sob leave his own lips as he scrubs his own tears away forcefully. “ _Damnit,_ Seokwoo!”

“I’m s-sorry,” Seokwoo’s voice cracks, and he looks up to Chanhee, sniffling roughly at the sight of the other. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chanhee whimpers, peering at the other through his fingers. “Thank you,” he gasps, gripping his chest. The ink that makes up his tattoo finally pierces his heart, and he reels as he feels it begin to kill him. “Thank you for taking… Care of me.”

“Chanhee- Chanhee!”

 

 _Thank_ _you for taking care of me._

The other’s final words are suspended in the air around Seokwoo as his body fully vanishes.

He stares at the place where Chanhee was previously sitting, tears silently streaming down his face as he watches the area intensely. He hopes that if he wills it hard enough, Chanhee will appear again to him.

 

 

 

 

 _“_ _Could I have saved him?”_

_The light of the moon and stars bathe him in their bright, white light. The field he sits in is still, the only movement coming from him as he shifts from leg to leg, kneeling in front of the rising moon._

_The grass ripples as_ she _responds. “Only for your own life, I get lonely. The others can only stay awake for so long before they drift off.”_

_He smiles, watching the grass still again as his own answer is awaited._

_“Well,” he sighs, “can I go back?”_

_The flowers in the field hum in the wind, singing as they sway together. “To when, my dear?”_

_Under the light of the constellation he’d grown up in, he makes his final decision, knowing he’d regret it though it would make others happier. “Last week.”_

_“Will you come back to me?”_

_The trees whisper to themselves. Sadly, he stares up at the twinkling stars, nodding._

_“I’ll come home.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue 1 of 2!  
> i ran a twitter poll asking which epilogue should be posted first. thankfully, the rochan epilogue seemed to work best with the plot, and the hwiwon/jubin epilogue will be posted very soon. 
> 
> thank you for reading!!! i love you so so so so so much  
> -elise
> 
> my twt: https://twitter.com/blossomfic  
> my cc: https://curiouscat.me/blossomfic


	9. Alternative Ending: Saltwater Cities

Youngkyun spends hours sitting next to the stranger who he’d found bleeding on the side of the road.

Well, not exactly _on_ the road. More or less, the man was wedged in between two slabs of uprooted granite, deep black cutting through his skin like a knife. It had been difficult for Youngkyun to drag his body off of the sharp, slanted granite, and by doing so he had torn the other’s side open further than what it had been.

There hadn’t been a crowd, thankfully, when Youngkyun had found him. It was odd for the city, but he was grateful that the other hadn’t been swarmed by throngs of people.

“You’ll be alright,” Youngkyun nods to himself, wrapping the rest of his gauze around the other’s wounds. He’d never been more thankful that his father was a renowned doctor in the city, or more thankful that he’d just moved in to his own apartment. He was sure his parents would have killed him for bringing a bleeding stranger home like a wounded stray, but how could he bring someone that fell from the sky to a hospital? What if they sold him to the government?

He remembers the look on his father’s face when he’d handed over the oversized red box Youngkyun remembered so vividly from his childhood. “ _For emergencies_ ,” he’d said, and Youngkyun had obviously saved the contents for just the right time.

The box is thrown open next to him as he works on the other, knowing from what he’d studied briefly in his free time about how to bandage and clean out large wounds such as the other’s safely.

In his unconscious state, the other looks dead.

Youngkyun swears to himself that he’ll bring him back, and continues to bandage the other’s wounds, having already finished his head and side injuries fully. There was one left on his chest, and another on his thigh.

A tourniquet made of Youngkyun’s favorite shirt wraps tightly around the skin above his thigh, and since it had stopped bleeding severely, Youngkyun quickly moves to sanitize and cover the gash on the other’s chest.

He would save him.

  


“Hello?”

Sanghyuk’s last memory is of a terror-stricken, wide eyed human staring down at him from where he fell, impaled on something cold and black that sliced into his sides the more he moved. After that, there was pain, then nothing.

“Hey.” Sanghyuk cracks an eye open slowly, listening to the other’s voice come closer. When he’s about to respond, the other continues talking. “No, yeah, I know. Sorry that I woke you up.”

Narrowing his eyes, Sanghyuk acts like he’s still asleep, listening in on the other’s conversation idly.

“Well… Yeah, something happened.” Sanghyuk hears him pacing. “No, it’s just… Bora! Come on, I’m being serious. It’s serious. Bora, Bora _no_ don’t hang-!”

The other’s voice raises an octave, and ends in a sharp sigh. “Up...”

Sanghyuk feels a hand run over his forehead, and at the touch he opens his eyes and snatches the other’s wrist, panicked eyes staring up at him. “Get your hand off of me.”

The other obliges, ripping his hand away forcefully. “Sorry! I was just… Checking your temperature...”

Sanghyuk knows he isn’t lying, but knows not to let his guard down either. He’d been taught to be cautious, for when this moment came, he would be prepared.

 

_“You must never trust man.”_

_Sanghyuk lays in the fields that he’d known for the duration of his life, the night sky hanging overhead like a blanket. Stars flow across it like gemstones. “Why not?”_

_“They will deceive you.”_

_The flowers sway in the soft breeze, and Sanghyuk rolls onto his back to watch the sky. “When will I meet them?”_

_His answer is laced with the wind, which wraps around him comfortingly. “Just in case you ever fall, my dear.”_

_He knew he was the favorite among the children, but didn’t like knowing what they wouldn’t know. “What else?”_

_She begins to explain the concept of the tattoos to him. He does his best to listen, but during the lecture he finds himself drifting off, enjoying his sleepy imagination more than the worrying concepts he was being taught._

  


“Can we trust him?”

Sanghyuk pulls on a black shirt, watching Youngkyun put concealer under his eyes as they prepare for the night ahead of them. Apparently, Youngkyun had been in contact with another star. He wonders which of his friends it was, and if they’d remember him from home.

“I hope so,” Youngkyun hums, blending the makeup in with one of his many brushes. Sanghyuk didn’t know what the different sized applicators were meant to be used for, but it was fun to watch Youngkyun use them. Mesmerizing, even, as the different products faded and made his skin appear glossy and smooth. Sanghyuk didn’t think he needed the makeup, but wouldn’t stop him. He liked Youngkyun no matter what he looked like, and if he wanted to look extra special, Sanghyuk wasn’t opposed. “Are you excited? Nervous, maybe?”

Sanghyuk shrugs, reaching for Youngkyun’s phone. He’d been briefed on the device before, and opens it without a problem before beginning to scroll aimlessly through Youngkyun’s social media. “I’m ready.”

  


“So, Chanhee faded, huh?”

Youngkyun’s heart feels heavy as Sanghyuk snakes an arm around his waist, holding him close on the couch. “Why?”

Sanghyuk sighs, dark hair blowing in the breeze from the open apartment window. Youngkyun was amazed with how he seemed to look just like any regular citizen in the city. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a sense of style that rivaled his own. Even though he just wears a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie devoid of any color except black, he looks perfect for his environment. “It just happens, I guess. The tattoos,” he tries to remember the lectures from his childhood, “they’re our lifeline.”

Youngkyun sighs, burying his face into the other’s shoulder sadly. His fingers curl around Sanghyuk’s shirt, and the ebony haired star glances at him and smiles, pulling him closer. “Will you fade?”

“No,” Sanghyuk shakes his head, bringing his lips to Youngkyun’s forehead quickly. “I want to stay right here, so I will.”

  


_“If you fall...”_

_He’s tired of the incessant warning in her tone. “I won’t.”_

_“But, if you do!” She speaks with a blazing hot authority, and shame traces down the back of Sanghyuk’s neck at her words, “don’t shut me out, Sanghyuk. I’m simply trying to protect you.”_

_With her stern voice in his ear, he can’t bring himself to respond. She continues. “Your lifeline will last for the duration of a normal human’s life.”_

_“What!?”_

_He’s angry. Angry that the other star he’d met_ _was only_ _allowed to spend a week on Earth, and that the youngest of them all was to only spend a month. They’d stopped visiting_ _Sanghyuk_ _after realizing that he was treated far better, that his own home seemed to be illuminated be a warm, endeared glow from the universe above._ _And, that it was decorated with life. Fields of flowers which were in bloom every season and lush forests surrounded Sanghyuk happily._ _“That’s not fair!”_

_The favorite yet again. “I want you to be happy.”_

_“I want the others to not hate me!”_

  


“You’re shaking.”

Sanghyuk wakes to Youngkyun’s worried voice, sighing as the storm outside rages on. The weakest star had just landed that night, only a few hours away from his own location. He could feel the tug on him like they were connected by an invisible rope.

A week. The other would live a nice week, Sanghyuk hopes, and turns his attention back to Youngkyun. “I’m all good.”

“You’re not.” Insisting, Youngkyun grabs his hand and brings it to his chest, feeling the other’s fingers tremble. “Come on, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sanghyuk insists, smiling faintly. “I’m okay, really, just had a bad dream.”

“About…?”

“I can’t remember.”

  


_“You’re slipping away, Sanghyuk.”_

_The only star with a name. Sanghyuk feels the hold of the world around him loosen, and he feels his vision darken as another force takes hold of him, yanking him down_ _wards_ _._

_It burns as it confiscates him from his home, and when he raises his hands_ _he_ _see_ _s_ _them surrounded by a hot, white glow,_ _and_ _he notices black ink begin to etch itself on the skin around his ring fingers._

  


“Juho...”

Sanghyuk smiles at the other who sits across from him at the table. Juho doesn’t remember him, but Sanghyuk did. It was as if he was seeing a sibling he hadn’t been able to speak to for the first time in years. He wonders if that’s their situation, but tries to push away the thought, instead focusing on the other’s eyes. “Are you feeling alright?”

Juho’s eyes lower to the table. Sanghyuk feels his heart sink, wanting only to support the other though he had no time to.

“I’m okay,” Juho smiles finally, looking up to Sanghyuk. “I’m happy I’m not the only one.”

“The only star?”

“The only one who’s scared.”

Sanghyuk laughs. “Me? I’m not scared.”

Youngbin and Youngkyun are far too immersed in their own conversation to hear Juho and Sanghyuk’s, and Juho takes the opportunity that presents itself to say his piece. “You are. Your hands are shaking.”

Afraid for himself? No.

Terrified for Juho’s near future? Absolutely.

He shakes his head, bringing his hands down into his lap. “I’m fine, kid.”

Youngbin’s eyes dart to a table that had been occupied for quite some time, a blonde and his dark haired counterpart joke over the table to each other, clearly not having noticed the group on the other side of the cafe.

Sanghyuk knows the other boy, too. Not the blonde, but the one whose eyes first appeared full of life, but under the lies and facade, showed his true identity.

A star that had not fallen, but was cast out. He remembers the day clearly, the anger in the sky when he’d been thrown from above. Sanghyuk was just a child, and so was the other.

He found himself thrilled that he’d survived, that he seemed so happy here, and wonders if he remembers the past.

 

* * *

 

  


His answer comes when he and Youngkyun try to leave, and are stopped by the new star before they can fully get outside.

“Can I speak to you for a second?”

The blonde watches the scene with crossed arms. Youngkyun, suddenly feeling _very_ protective, attempts to say something, but is cut off immediately by Sanghyuk. “Yes, please, I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing.”

They step outside, leaving their humans inside to whisper about their unhappiness with the situation together the moment the stars cross the threshold and the door slams behind them.

“Does he know?”

“Inseong? No.” The other laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Inseong has no idea what I am, and I’d love to keep it that way.”

He had been thrown out before being given any lifelines. The sky wanted nothing to do with him, and thus stripped him of anything that could potentially bring him home. No tattoos covered his body. Sanghyuk feels oddly conscious of his own tattoos, and folds his hands together in an attempt to hide them.

“How are you?” Sanghyuk smiles, remembering the first time he’d met the other. How they’d spent the night in the fields, young and unaware of the curly haired brunette’s fate. “It’s been so long...”

“Good! Good,” he nods, glancing inside to peek at Inseong through the doors. He’s holding Youngkyun in conversation with him, and doesn’t notice the other’s gaze. “I’ve learned a lot. My name’s Jaeyoon, by the way.”

He sticks a hand out. At the foreign motion, Sanghyuk hesitantly raises his own hand to meet the other’s, laughing when Jaeyoon shakes it. “Oh! Alright, alright...”

  


“Juho’s gone, too.”

The hotel room Sanghyuk and Youngkyun stay in is suffocating.

“Already?”

Youngkyun throws his head back as they sit on the couch, the news muted on the TV in front of them. “Already.” He responds, exhaustion lacing his words. “Why can’t we ever have friends?”

Sanghyuk laughs sadly at the question, shaking his head. “I need to get some air.”

“But it’s so late...”

The ocean roars in the distance. Sanghyuk stands, shaking his head. “I just need to, love.”

“Okay,” Youngkyun mumbles, reaching over to the table beside them. “I’m going to bed, here’s a key.”

Reaching out for it gently, Sanghyuk takes the hotel key. “Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”

He leaves, stepping out into the hallway of the cheap motel. They hadn’t wanted to drive back to the city that night, and had instead just bought a single room for the night, and planned on leaving in the morning. Youngbin’s call had woken them up from where they’d fallen asleep next to each other on the couch. Sanghyuk can still feel the other’s hair tickling his cheek as he woke up from where he’d been asleep on his chest.

Sanghyuk can’t get the way Juho looked at Youngbin out of his head.

He makes his way outside, sitting down on a soaked bench.

And he waits.

It takes hours for the rain to clear, and by that time the sky is becoming stained with color. He hopes it isn’t too late to call out, but finds himself successful on the first try.

_“It’s early, dear.”_

 

* * *

 

  


Sanghyuk grabs Juho’s hand, hoisting him out of the pit that he’d created when he’d fallen. He’s battered and bloody, bruised as he trembles and screams at Sanghyuk to let go of him, to not hurt him. He shakes like a leaf in a wind that barely blows, eyes wild with distrust and uncertainty. 

He forces Juho to turn around, throws him down against the ground. He fucking _hates_ him in that moment, knowing that he’s giving his life to make Juho happy. “Stay down,” he growls, straddling the other as he places his hands against the tattoos that lace his back. “Don’t fucking move, Juho.”

There’s a clattering sound as somebody begins to move the fence that blocks the street from the beach. Sanghyuk knows it’s Youngbin, and quickly shoves his palms further against Juho’s skin. “I fucking _hate_ you.”

He doesn’t. He knows he cares too much, and realizes this as he watches the ink around his fingers vanish. Replacing them, the tattoo on Juho’s spine races up Sanghyuk’s arms. He only pulls away when he’s taken the entirety of the other’s failing lifeline.

Before Youngbin can see him, he races towards the woods, feeling his legs give out when he finally steps beneath the trees.

He thinks of Youngkyun. Thinks of the other’s hands wrapped around his, about the way he got shy when Sanghyuk would kiss him.

Instead of watching the way he fades, he thinks of Youngkyun, and how he’d abandoned him that morning to get to the beach. Youngkyun would wake up for work in a few hours, only to find himself alone. Sanghyuk would never return to him.

Tears roll down Sanghyuk’s face, and he wipes them away as he pushes himself back against a tree. He brings his knees to his chest and buries his face into them, shaking. Why?

Why did he care so much for Juho?

He supposes he did it out of rebellion. For Juho to receive the life he deserved, the one he hated Sanghyuk for having in their original home.

He had returned to the first day Juho had fallen with one motive; to give Juho his lifeline and wake up at home.

Not his true home, which he found in Youngkyun’s arms and in his smile, but to the desolate, lonely planet he called his own.

  


 

  


_Welcome home, Sanghyuk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Elise
> 
> cc: https://curiouscat.me/blossomfic  
> twt: https://twitter.com/blossomfic


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